


Deep in Their Roots, All Flowers Keep the Light

by SiriuslyEmily



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Character Tags To Be Added - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Found Family, Hollow Bastion | Radiant Garden, M/M, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, atonement is difficult and may seem impossible but that doesn't mean that you can give up, but nothing too much, everyone at least shows up but these are the major ones, everyone's trying to be better and it's hard but they ARE trying, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslyEmily/pseuds/SiriuslyEmily
Summary: While searching for Demyx and Braig in the weeks after the Keyblade War, Even comes across a recently re-completed Lauriam, his memories partially recovered but still hazy. When a deal is struck and Lauriam travels to Radiant Garden for assistance, the two must learn to tolerate each other as they deal with the hardships of recovering from their time in the Organization. While they struggle to reconcile their pasts with their present, each find that perhaps there is a place for the other in their new lives after all. Post KH3, written before Re:Mind's release.
Relationships: Even/Lauriam (Kingdom Hearts), Marluxia/Vexen (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 105





	1. A. belladonna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever been apathetic towards a pairing for thirteen years and then suddenly get struck by inspirational lightning and have to write a stupid long fic about it? This is that fic. Thanks to Theo @ghostadas for joining me in my marvex spiral and encouraging/beta reading/crying with me; about half of this (including the art!) would not exist without her!!  
> This fic is not totally done, but I've been working on it since far before Re:Mind was announced, so forgive me if things don't line up once that comes out. Enjoy!

As his boots sank ankle deep into the mud for the third time in an hour, Even wondered what in the worlds had convinced him that accompanying Ienzo and Aeleus on this trip was a good idea. They’d been traipsing through the woods of Corona for the better part of the morning, following sign posts which had promised they were getting closer to the city, but now they were slogging their way through a gloomy marsh at the edge of the forest. The farther they went, the wetter it got, and now it was nearly impossible to make it more than a few feet without squelching through the muck.

Grumbling, he latched onto the nearest tree and tugged—perhaps a little harder than he should have, because a spray of muddy water flecked dark stains across the hem of his coat as he pulled one leg free. It was fortunate he’d exchanged his labcoat for something a little less conspicuous, though the mud was quickly ruining the dark green fabric. Even tugged again, and flinched as the scarred skin across his chest stretched with the effort. His other boot only slid a few inches sideways before sinking even deeper.

“Stuck?”

Even looked up, still frowning. Aeleus, somehow not sinking despite his size and the watery terrain, was holding out a hand. Even begrudgingly took it, the mud sucking at the soles of his boots as Aeleus helped him onto drier land.

“Why aren’t you having trouble?” he grumbled.

“My powers,” Aeleus said. He was holding his axe-sword in his other hand; he tapped it lightly on the ground, and the patch of mud beneath solidified as the earth expanded, decreasing the moisture.

“How very convenient for you,” Even muttered. He glared at another mud patch quite close by, willing it to freeze over. A thin layer of ice spread along its surface, but after a moment it evaporated in a puff of mist, leaving the area as wet as ever.

“It’ll come back to you,” Aeleus said as he created a path for them to walk on. “I’ve had more time to practice.”

“I shouldn’t need practice,” Even continued to gripe. “It hardly required any effort before!”

“You were a Nobody before,” said a much calmer voice from nearby. Ienzo was waiting a little further ahead, sitting patiently on a fallen log. His boots were a bit mud-caked too, which made Even feel slightly better.

“Now that we’re human again, our powers aren’t what they once were,” Ienzo continued. He held out his hand palm up, a characteristic gesture Even had seen a thousand times before, whenever Zexion summoned his Lexicon. The air above Ienzo’s hand, however, remained empty, and he lowered it with a quiet sigh. “We’ll just have to keep trying.”

“We should be nearly out of the marsh,” Aeleus said as they drew level with him. “This way.”

Ienzo rose and followed, Even trailing behind them. He held his hand out to his side, willing his shield to form from its usual icy mist, but only the barest hint of frost spread across his fingertips. Shaking his hand with a muffled sigh, he hurried after them. It would be the height of embarrassment for Even to get lost in this horrible swamp when it had been his idea to accompany Ienzo on this journey in the first place.

Ienzo had been surprisingly adamant about searching for some of their missing numbers, particularly Demyx and Braig. Even had agreed that locating Demyx was rather high on his list of priorities--he still hardly considered the boy a friend, but Demyx had assisted him in his plan to deliver a vessel to the other apprentices, and that counted for something. Even was surprised at how much it had bothered him, not knowing where Demyx had ended up after the whole affair was at last put to rest. But as for Braig…

“You told us that Xehanort’s influence could bring out the worst in a person—that it distorted your sense of self,” Ienzo had argued, a week before.

“Yes…” That had been difficult to deny. Even had been spared the worst of Xehanort’s influence when he was passed over as one of the chosen vessels, but it had still had surprising and unpleasant effects on his emotions. “But, Ienzo—”

“Isa was affected that way, as well.”

“That’s correct, but--"

“Then the same could be true for Braig.”

And that had been the end of the discussion. The plans for a new gummiship were completed in record time, thanks to Ienzo’s friendship with the little king’s engineers and the help of Highwind from the Restoration Committee, and so Ienzo and Even, along with Aeleus, had set out to begin their search.

The other two had seemed surprised that Even had insisted on coming along, but Even did have knowledge of the various worlds the true Organization had been monitoring, and anyway, none of them had regained true mastery of their old powers. Certainly Aeleus and Ienzo would look after one another, but three would be able to handle problems two could not. So here Even was, worlds away from home not even three weeks after his second recompletion, searching for Braig and Demyx. Demyx was one thing, but privately he couldn’t help but remain unconvinced that locating Braig was as good an idea as Ienzo seemed to believe.

Yes, it was true that Xehanort’s influence was quite negative and at times almost overwhelming. Even’s own experiences during his time with a piece of Xehanort’s heart in placeof his own was proof enough of that. Vexen had felt his own emotions, no longer able to deny their faint presence in what was left of his heart, but feelings that were not his own had crept up on him when his guard was down. The feverishness with which he had pursued the completion of the new replicas had surprised even him, and he was quite used to his own obsessive tendencies when it came to work. This, though, was different, so intense at times that it unsettled him, and always accompanied by other feelings that were not his own, or perhaps his own but magnified: strange surges of jealousy, or indifference, or loneliness.

It hadn’t taken long for him to pinpoint the cause, and Saix had confirmed his suspicions when questioned: Xehanort’s influence on the heart made every negative emotion fester, drowning out all other feelings if one wasn’t careful. As he had worked on the new batch of replicas, it had been all Even could do at points to ignore the dark whispers in the back of his mind, Xehanort’s personal desires creeping into the void beneath his ribs. It wasn’t hard to imagine the same happening to the other members of the new Organization, particularly those among the chosen.

But Xigbar...the others had been dutiful, some even enthusiastic with regards to their new missions, but something about Xigbar’s behavior had just seemed off. It hadn’t been difficult to surmise that he knew the old man in charge more extensively than anyone had assumed, or that he appeared in some ways to be higher in the current pecking order than even Xemnas, to Even’s surprise, but he didn’t seem to be doing much with his newfound status. Xigbar visited worlds without any real reason, talked occasionally about some strange black box they were all supposed to be searching for, and seemed almost indifferent to practically anything the Organization concerned itself with. This was the strangest of all, considering he had apparently been enduring Xehanort’s influence longer than even Isa.

All of this had been difficult to explain to the others, particularly in the face of Ienzo’s determination to locate Braig. Dilan had been skeptical, almost hesitant, but had agreed that determining where their former colleague had gone was important--though he had declined to join them on their trip. Aeleus had only nodded at Ienzo’s reasoning, immediately volunteering to join him in the search. Lord Ansem, for his part, seemed almost as interested in finding Braig as Ienzo was, and encouraged the idea. Even couldn’t help but wonder if they were all quietly clinging to the hope that Braig would be just as they remembered before everything had gone wrong: reckless and selfish, certainly, but not totally willing to turn them all into lifeless husks in exchange for a little power. It was possible, Even supposed, but he just couldn’t help but think that perhaps the reason Braig had yet to return to the Garden on his own was not because of a lack of ability to do so, but because he simply didn’t want to.

Even had given up his heart a second time in the main square of Radiant Garden, but Braig’s absence implied he had done otherwise, and they had all been rather ashamed to admit that Demyx’s homeworld was a mystery. They began their search at the Keyblade Graveyard, which they had found as dusty and desolate as it had ever been, and even emptier than Even remembered. It seemed as likely a spot as any, considering the amount of time the true Organization had spent there, but after as thorough a search as they could manage, there was no sign of any remaining members of the Organization amongst the rocks and dead keyblades. The stone pillars stood empty, and the crossroads likewise, silent and lifeless.

They left the Graveyard behind quickly, which Even was grateful for. He didn’t like the few memories he had of this world, nor did he appreciate the way Ienzo and Aeleus kept glancing at him when they thought he couldn’t see. Were they expecting that he would break down, somehow, returning to this place? If so, he was happy to disappoint them. The only emotions he felt as he surveyed the cracked plateaus were distaste, and the desire to leave.

From there, they had made their way to Traverse Town, as Ienzo had pointed out that if Demyx’s original world had yet to emerge from the darkness, he would most likely have recompleted there. The three of them had searched for hours, questioning the few who still remained in the world and going through each building carefully. They had even found Highwind’s old garage, a few spare gummiblocks littering the floor and dusty workbenches that had been strangely covered in claw marks. Perhaps the Heartless had caused some trouble for the refugees of the Garden here too.

There had been no sign of Demyx or Braig, unfortunately, so they had left the world in-between and visited a good handful since then, Corona being the third. It was the most pleasant so far, though Even’s opinion of the place was rapidly declining. It was, at least, quieter than that world with the tall glass and metal buildings with too many people crowding its streets, and better by far than that bizarre toy store. The less said about their experience in that world, the better, in Even’s opinion.

“Ah,” Ienzo said as they reached the top of a steep hill, “I think we’re getting close.” He pointed out past the trees to what looked like the peaks of a handful of towers. "We may be able to see the city from the bottom of this slope."

“It’s rather steep,” Even said, eyeing the incline.

“Even, are you really frightened of a hill?”

“I didn’t say I was frightened,” he snapped. “But if one of us breaks our necks in a fall, there won’t be any coming back from it.”

“I may not be able to use my Lexicon, but I can heal any injuries we might obtain,” Ienzo said. “Let’s go.”

He started off again down the hill, and Even sighed. Aeleus was frowning, but when Even looked at him he only shrugged and followed after Ienzo, and Even begrudgingly went after them.

It didn’t take long for any of them to start slipping down the incline. Even and Aeleus both halted in time, but Ienzo stumbled and began to slide. Instead of reaching for something to steady himself, however, Ienzo let himself fall, and slid off through the grass, sending a spray of flower petals in his wake. After a moment, to Even’s utter shock, they could hear him laughing as he slid further down the hill and out of sight.

It was not a sound that Even was used to hearing. Aeleus looked just as surprised, but he only shook his head, almost fondly.

“I could level the ground out a little,” he suggested.

“You know he’ll make some comment if we do.”

“Probably.”

Even sighed. “I suppose we don’t have a choice. It is, at least, the most expedient way down.” He grimaced, and let go of the fistful of grass he had grabbed onto. Aeleus did the same, and down they went, trying their utmost to ignore the utter indignity of sliding down a grassy hill like a couple of children.

The hill path emptied out onto a wide bay, water gently lapping at its shore. Above the glistening surface was a long bridge connecting the shore to an island, upon which a large city with bright towers stood imprinted against the sky. It was fairly impressive, and reminded Even more than a little of Radiant Garden. Ienzo was waiting for them at the bottom, turning away from the sight of the city as the two slid to as graceful a halt as they could manage.

“Well!” Ienzo was slightly out of breath, but he was still smiling a little as Even and Aeleus straightened back up. “Any broken bones?”

Aeleus shook his head as Even scoffed, “No, of course not.”

“Good. Shall we?”

He turned and walked forward, but rather than approaching the bridge, he went to the shore and stepped into the shallow water, rinsing the dried mud off of his boots. Even followed suit, silently wishing something could be done for his stained coat. Once they had cleaned themselves up they set out across the bridge.

“It’s rather like home, don’t you think?” Ienzo said, looking up at the tall towers shining in the late morning sun. “A large city with a central castle situated on an island, surrounded by water…and they seem fond of flowers, too.”

He wasn’t wrong; from the main gate they could see flowers sitting on windowsills, strung from rooftops, in carts along the streets. There were even garlands being strung by uniformed men on tall ladders. Townspeople moved busily through the cobbled avenues below them, most moving in the direction of what seemed to be a market.

It was still strange to move in the open, to allow themselves to be seen, rather than lurk in the shadows to observe. They received a few curious glances--everyone in the market seemed to know each other, laughing and greeting one another by name--but no one questioned their presence. As a port city, and the hub of a kingdom, travellers were presumably a fairly frequent occurrence. Aeleus seemed to be getting the most attention due to his sheer size, towering over the tallest of the guardsman who patrolled through the streets, but beyond this they were able to search through the city without more than a handful of raised eyebrows.

It didn’t take terribly long to conduct a cursory search, considering the size of the city. The large gates in front of the path to the castle were locked, and other parts of the surrounding town seemed to be blocked off, too. The citizens seemed to be preparing for a celebration of some sort; most of the areas were bustling with people, but they moved with purpose, most of them quite intent on their work as they strung up more garlands of flowers and hung bright purple flags with sunburst emblems from every surface.

On previous worlds Ienzo had taken up the role of questioner--Aeleus certainly wasn’t the chatting sort, and Even still found it difficult to interact with the locals instead of observing from afar. He approached a man selling baked goods from a cart as the other two hung back, ignoring the awed glances of a few children who stared up at Aeleus as they passed.

“Excuse me,” Ienzo said to the baker, “we’ve been travelling for quite some time and were intending to meet friends in this city. You wouldn’t happen to know of any newcomers that have come to town recently? In the last month or so, perhaps? One of them might be wearing an eyepatch, and the other would have rather, um, unusual hair.”

“Hmm. Can’t say I’ve seen anyone with an eyepatch, or hair more unusual than yours,” said the man, with a glance at Ienzo’s long bangs. “But there’s been someone staying at the florist’s for the last few weeks. Caused a bit of a commotion when he arrived.”

“A commotion?”

“Apparently he lived here a while back, but went out on a trip and never returned. There’s been some gossip about it--none from me,” the baker clarified quickly, “but word is that he might’ve fell in with some of those ruffians who live out past the marsh. He was in pretty poor shape when he finally got back, I hear. Good thing the florist’s married to a doctor.”

“Would you mind telling us where we can find him?”

The man pointed down the road. “Follow this street to the end and take a left. Place is full of flowers, you can’t miss it.” And with that he turned away to greet a woman opening up another stall to his right.

Ienzo made his way back to the other two. “I assume you both heard that. Shall we look?”

“Is it worth it?” Even asked. The crowds were definitely not endearing him to this world. “Braig never lived here, unless he was leading a very impressive double life.”

“Demyx might have,” Aeleus said.

“Exactly,” said Ienzo. “We can’t know for certain until we check.”

“I suppose,” Even muttered as they set off, though he privately thought that a world this industrious did not seem like Demyx’s style. “Did any of our former number mention having lived in a world like this one?”

“It’s not as if we often discussed our pasts,” Ienzo replied. “I don’t know that Roxas or Xion were aware that the majority of the Organization knew each other before, for instance.”

“Highly doubtful.” Discussing the past just wasn’t something they did, in either of the Organizations. Better to focus on future goals than dwell on memories you supposedly had no emotional attachments to. “Perhaps if we’d all been a bit chattier, this would be an easier endeavor.”

“Which of the members were sent here in the new Organization? I don’t recognize this world from our previous missions.”

“Marluxia,” Even said, barely suppressing a grimace. He hadn’t had much time to interact with his former adversary--something he was highly grateful for, as Marluxia seemed just as insufferable as ever. If he had to hear one more remark about how slow his work on perfecting the replicas was going...but Marluxia was gone, presumably recompleted on some distant world, and out of Even’s way for good. “A new princess of heart was discovered here. The intention was to keep her hidden away in case one of the Guardians of Light could not be recovered, but Sora and his friends interfered, as always.”

“I see."

Even didn't elaborate further; whenever he spoke in too much detail about his time in the true Organization, something about Ienzo's attitude became almost brittle. Even couldn't tell if it was for his own sake, or if Ienzo was still unhappy that Even had left without informing the other apprentices of his plans, and he wasn't about to push and find out.

The three turned the corner, and found the baker had been right about the florist’s shop. Flowers decorated most of the buildings in the city, but two doors down was a shop practically engulfed by a cascade of colorful blooms. Plants were a common sight for Even--you couldn’t walk two feet in the Garden without practically tripping over some flower-bush or other--but even he was surprised at the vividness and size of the blossoms bedecking the shop front. Hydrangeas and geraniums spilled out of the planters sitting outside the door, bunches of begonias hanging from pots suspended from the overhanging roof. There were even a few he didn’t recognize, presumably natives to this world. Even immediately started mentally categorizing them, relating them to species he was familiar with, and was so intent on this that he didn’t notice the person who had just come out of the shop’s front door until Ienzo made a noise in surprise.

Even glanced at the man standing in the doorway and stumbled right into Aeleus, who had already stopped short. The man had stopped too, staring at the three of them over the blooms of amaryllis he held in his arms. He was wearing plain clothes, dark trousers and a buttoned shirt instead of a coat, but Even would recognize the face anywhere. How often had he endured smirks disguised as polite smiles, skepticism and condescension lurking in those sharp blue eyes? And they were blue again, no longer the odd gold they had all shared in the true Organization but their usual shade once more, wide in surprise beneath feathery pink hair. They narrowed slightly as he met Even’s gaze, and the expression was so familiar that Even could feel himself grimacing in response. It wasn’t something he could help--annoyance was instinctive when it came to Marluxia.

Without quite taking his eyes off the three of them, Marluxia set the plant down on a small ledge beneath the shop window, then straightened back up. The shock in his expression was gone, replaced by a familiar mask of politeness, though a certain wariness was still present in his eyes.

“Hello,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see the three of you again.”

“Marluxia?” Ienzo was the first to step toward him. Aeleus was right behind the boy, and though he hadn’t summoned his weapon, Even saw his hand twitch. Ienzo didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, only surprised. “You’ve been recompleted?”

“Obviously,” Marluxia responded. “What are you doing here?”

“As if we owe you any explanation,” Even interrupted. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I live here.” His polite tone held a hint of amusement. “Surely you could surmise that much.”

Even scowled, but before he could respond, Ienzo cut back in.

“Forgive our surprise,” he said. “We weren’t aware this was your home world.”

“No, you wouldn’t be.” Marluxia tilted his head thoughtfully. “Again, what are you doing here?”

“We’re searching for Demyx and Braig," Ienzo said. He ignored the scandalized look Even threw him in favor of watching Marluxia closely, though his tone was just as polite as Marluxia’s.

“Braig? Ah, Xigbar. I see.” Marluxia’s eyes narrowed again. “And what will you do when you find them?”

“What does it matter to you what we do?” Even demanded.

“Even, please, there’s no need to be combative,” Ienzo said, touching Even’s arm briefly.

“Yes, cool that temper of yours. If I considered you a threat, I would have done something about it already,” Marluxia said.

Even scoffed. “I highly doubt you’re able to use your powers at the moment. Your posturing is unnecessary, as always.”

“Even,” Ienzo said, and there was an edge to his tone that made Even pause despite himself. “This isn’t necessary, either.” He stepped ahead of Even, and said to Marluxia, “Have you seen either of them here?”

“Excuse me!” A young, high voice called from down the street. A girl with reddish hair in two braids hurried up wearing a sweet smile. “I’m here to pick up my mother’s order!”

Marluxia glanced at the three with a surprisingly stern look, and then turned to the girl, smiling politely again. Even didn’t bother holding back another scoff—the man was as insincere as ever, it seemed. If Marluxia heard, he didn’t react, instead speaking to the girl.

“She ordered the amaryllis, didn’t she? They’re right here.” He lifted the pot he had placed on the window ledge and held it out to the girl, who took it with careful hands. “Make sure to keep it somewhere sunny. Rotate the pot every day if you can.”

“What happens if we don’t?”

“They like to grow towards the sun. It might lean too far and start to fall,” Marluxia said, tipping one of the blooms to the side with his hand. “If that happens, bring it back and we’ll stake the blooms. Sometimes they just need a little extra support.”

The girl nodded seriously, and Marluxia gave her another smile. “Thank you!” she said, and with a curious glance at the trio still standing in the middle of the road, she turned and headed back down the street. Marluxia watched her go for a moment, then turned back to them, his smile replaced with wariness.

“I understand if you would prefer not to speak with us,” Ienzo said as soon as the girl was out of earshot, “but if you do know anything about where we might find Braig or Demyx, it would be a great help.”

“Hmm. I have to say, I’m a little shocked that you’re actually asking me for assistance, Zexion.”

“It would be foolish to not use every available resource. And that isn’t my name anymore.”

“Ah--of course not. My apologies,” said Marluxia, though he didn’t sound particularly sorry. “What is it now?”

“Ienzo. And this is Even, and Aeleus,” he said, gesturing at his companions. “What should we call you?”

For a moment Marluxia looked as if he wouldn’t answer, but then he gave a short sigh, and said, “Lauriam.” He paused, and then, with a brief shake of his head, he turned and went back into the shop, saying over his shoulder, “Come in.”

He disappeared into the shop, the bell on the door ringing as it swung shut. Ienzo looked back to Aeleus and Even.

“Well?” he asked.

“We don’t have any other leads,” Aeleus said.

“We don’t,” Ienzo agreed. “We may as well see what he knows.”

“Are you joking?” Even asked. “Why on earth would we go in there? Did you forget that it’s thanks to him that the plan at Castle Oblivion went so horribly awry?” It was astonishing to Even they were even _speaking_ to the man, after his foolish ambitions had led each of them to their quite literal destruction. They had been recompleted, certainly, but that was beside the point.

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Ienzo said. His tone was neutral, but there was something in the way he held Even’s gaze that suggested he knew exactly what Even had left unvoiced. “But that’s in the past. As I said, we need to take advantage of whatever help we can find.”

“We don’t need his help! And furthermore, he never said he knew anything about where they are.”

“Even, I understand your frustration, but he was one of the chosen vessels, wasn’t he? It’s possible he spoke to Demyx more than you did. He might know where he was found when they invited him into the real Organization,” Ienzo said. “It would be unwise to leave without finding out what he knows.”

“He doesn’t know anything. He never has!”

“Even.” Aeleus’s voice was quiet, but the other two immediately turned to listen. “We can’t be certain of what he knows until we ask him.”

Even crossed his arms. “You’re acting as if he’s ever been forthcoming with us in the first place.”

“To be fair, it’s not as if any of us were ever forthcoming with him,” Ienzo said.

“For good reason!”

“He distrusted us because we were closer to Xemnas. And his distrust of Xemnas was understandable, considering his true intentions.”

“Marluxia wouldn’t have known Xemnas’s intentions. We didn’t,” Even said, tightening his arms around himself. “He and Larxene were just hungry for power.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Aeleus said. “What matters is finding the others.”

“I agree,” Ienzo said. “Perhaps he won’t tell us anything of worth, but I do think the best strategy is to go inside and see what we can glean.”

He strode to the door and held it open, looking back to the other two. Aeleus followed and entered the shop, ducking slightly to get through the doorway. Even stared at Ienzo for a moment, still flabbergasted that the boy was even considering going to Marluxia of all people for help, but Ienzo merely tilted his head as if to say, “Are you coming, or not?”

Even hesitated a moment more, and then he uncrossed his arms, grumbling, and went to the door. Ienzo gave him a brief smile and allowed him through the door before stepping inside himself, the bell on the door tinkling again as it shut behind him.

If the outside of the shop had been covered in flowers, the inside seemed almost like a flower explosion. They lined the walls in pots and hanging baskets, crowding the benches lining the perimeter of the room. There were so many pots and planters, in fact, that it was a little difficult to maneuver the floor; Aeleus was gingerly stepping around a container of cheerful-looking hydrangeas as Even and Ienzo edged in behind him.

At the far end of the room was a desk, atop which stood a container of some of the largest zinnias Even had ever seen. A hummed melody and faint rustling from behind the desk suggested that someone was behind it, though they weren’t visible through the stalks. Beside the desk was another door, and as the three looked around, it opened up to show Marluxia, frowning slightly.

“There you are. This way,” he said. To the person behind the desk, he added, “We’ll be in the back for a little while. Let me know if you need help.”

“Take your time,” came the response, and a woman with long greying hair popped her head up over the blooms. “It’ll be slow until the bouquets are done. Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

“Pardon our intrusion,” Ienzo said, nodding, and crossed the room--carefully--to follow Marluxia. Aeleus and Even followed, Even still wondering why in the worlds they were bothering.

They followed Marluxia out to a small patio that overlooked a decently-sized garden. It was hard to tell precisely how far it extended behind the building because the view was blocked by dozens of vividly blooming flowers, crowding right up to the patio’s edge. A large work table and a few benches were arranged beneath the thin metal roof. Marluxia went over to the table, pulling on a pair of work gloves.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he says, “I still have work to do. We’re preparing for the princess’s coronation.” Piles of flowers were arranged across the table in front of him, along with reels of colorful ribbon. “Take a seat, please.”

“The Princess of Heart?” Ienzo asked with interest as he sat across from Marluxia. Aeleus stayed standing until Ienzo looked over at him; after a moment’s hesitation he took a seat next to Ienzo.

Even remained on his feet, ignoring Ienzo’s glances, and crossed his arms. “Is she aware _you_ are here?” he asked Lauriam. “I know you spoke with her in person.”

“She isn’t. I’m sure she’s quite busy, starting her new life.” Marluxia set to work, deftly gathering a couple stems from each pile and arranging them just so into bunches. “Far too busy to concern herself with a florist’s apprentice.” His lips twitched in a slight smirk. “Even if he did seemingly return from the dead. Most of the city is still too excited about her presence to pay much attention to me.”

“No one has questioned your return?”

“No. I’ve let them assume what they want. I kept to myself before losing my heart, and I’ve continued to do so since my recompletion. The people I lived with previously took me in readily enough, and they rarely asked probing questions of me before. They aren’t going to start now.” Marluxia measured out a length of pink ribbon and wrapped it around the gathered stems, and then glanced up at the three of them.

“Before I tell you if I’ve seen Xigbar or Demyx,” he said, “I would like to know how the three of you traveled to this world.”

Even thought it was rich that Marluxia felt he was in a position to barter for information, but Ienzo answered anyway.

“I take it you’re unable to use dark corridors anymore, either,” he said.

Marluxia tied the ribbon into a neat bow. “If I could, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Isn’t this your home?”

“This is where I lived before I lost my heart, yes, but it isn’t my home.”

Even raised an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Marluxia glanced at him, but didn’t answer the question. “How did you get here?” he asked again.

“A gummiship,” Aeleus answered.

“Ah. Like Sora.” Marluxia cut another length of ribbon, yellow this time, and wrapped it below the first. “Interesting.”

“We answered your question.”

“You did.” Marluxia tied the second ribbon off. “I don’t know where they are.”

Even rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t. Speaking to this man was, as ever, a waste of time. Aeleus frowned, and so did Ienzo, just slightly, but Marluxia leveled a look at them that Even could not quite read.

“I might be able to determine where Demyx is,” he said after a moment. “With some assistance.”

“Assistance?” Ienzo asked.

Marluxia laid down the bouquet, and looked at the three of them. It was a calculating look, as if he were carefully deciding exactly what to say. “Did Xemnas ever tell any of you why we--myself, Larxene, Luxord, and Demyx--were chosen as members of the original Organization?”

The three apprentices exchanged confused glances. Ienzo answered, “Your hearts--”

“Are powerful enough that our wills were sustained once we lost them, yes,” Marluxia finished. “But that isn’t why.” He put both hands flat on the table, watching them all closely as he spoke. “According to Xemnas, we were gathered together because we are connected to the keyblade.”

“The keyblade?” Even asked, flabbergasted. “How?”

“That was what we wondered. He was reticent about the specifics, as always. We were only told that we were connected to what he called an ancient keyblade legacy. He referred to it as our greatest secret. I would have considered it more subterfuge, however...” Marluxia hesitated, but sighed quietly, and continued. “Recently, I...began to remember things that I had thought were lost.”

Ienzo leaned forward, intrigued. “Are you saying you weren’t in possession of all of your memories before?”

“No. I wasn’t. There were parts of my childhood that were...hazy, far before I lost my heart and joined the Organization. But now, some of the haze has cleared.”

“And your new memories are connected to what Xemnas spoke of?”

“....I think so.” Marluxia stared down at the table, frowning. His voice was so quiet it was almost as if he were speaking only to himself. “I remember people I had forgotten for a very long time. In those memories, I didn’t live here. I lived...somewhere else, on a different world. And I carried a keyblade of my own.”

“That’s preposterous,” Even said flatly. “If you were capable of wielding a keyblade, we would never have needed Roxas’s assistance, nor would we have been tasked with turning Sora to our former cause. And if you came from a different world, then why do you live here now?”

“You may believe whatever you like.” Marluxia was still staring down at the table, at his hands, which were now clenched tight. “I know what Xemnas said to us, and I know that I have memories of wielding a keyblade.”

“Hmph. Your new-found memories prove very little. You know as well as we do how misleading they can be.”

Lauriam locked eyes with him. “Yes, I do,” he said coldly. “I don’t need you to tell me how troublesome memory can be, considering I’ve just told you that I suffered from significant memory loss, but your lack of sympathy is unsurprising.” He reached for another reel of ribbon. “And undesired. I don’t need sympathy from any of you. I need only for you to provide me a way off of this world.”

Even could not believe Marluxia’s gall. “And what reason do we have to pay you such a favor?”

“I’ve just told you. Demyx was connected to the keyblade too, according to Xemnas. If Demyx is indeed tied to my past, then it’s possible that knowledge of his home world is locked somewhere in my memory. If I’m able to recover the rest of them, it’s possible that I can assist you.”

“And if we were to take you with us, where would you go?” Ienzo asked.

“That’s simple. I need to find Elrena.”

It didn’t take more than a moment for them to realize who he meant. “Larxene?”

“Yes. I don’t recall Demyx or Luxord--yet. But I remember her. We knew each other before.”

“In your recovered memories, you mean?” Ienzo asked. “Interesting. And neither of you recognized one another when you met in the Organization?”

“...There was a sense of familiarity. I couldn’t explain it. I think she felt it too. But we rarely discussed the past. I can’t know what she remembers until I speak to her.” He finished another bouquet, laying it beside the others. “It’s possible she recalls more than I do. If anything, she might have an idea of where Demyx is.”

“But she might not,” Even cut in.

“Perhaps. But considering you were so desperate as to ask me for assistance, I have to assume you have very little idea of where to look for either of them.” He tied a purple ribbon around the new bouquet. “Wouldn’t Xigbar have recompleted on your home world?”

“Not if he gave up his heart again elsewhere,” Ienzo said. “He has yet to return, in any case. If he is unable to move between worlds, as the rest of us are, then the only way he could come back to the Garden is if we are able to find him and bring him back.”

“I see.” Marluxia met Even’s eyes then, for no longer than a second, and though he quickly looked away, Even got the distinct impression that they shared similar opinions about just why Braig had yet to make his return. This wasn’t a comfort; if anything, knowing that Marluxia agreed with him was incredibly irritating. He always had to act as if he knew far more than he had any right to.

“Do you even know where Larxene is?” Even snapped. “We’re searching for enough people already. We don’t need to waste time gallivanting across the galaxy looking for her, too.”

“I do, yes. She told me. A world called Arendelle.”

“Arendelle?” Ienzo echoed. “I believe that world was on our list. Let me see if we have the coordinates for it. One moment.” He reached his pocket and pulled out his gummiphone.

“Ienzo! We haven’t agreed to this!”

“Even, I already told you that I don’t see the point in wasting resources,” Ienzo said, not lifting his eyes from the screen as his fingers flew across it. “If Lauriam is correct, and Elrena might know something about Demyx’s location, it would be foolish to pass up this opportunity.” He glanced up. “It’s more information than we had before, at the very least.”

Even could do nothing but stare as Ienzo continued his search. He looked to Aeleus, who met his eyes but offered no arguments beyond a slight shrug of the shoulders. Lauriam silently tied off another ribbon, eyeing Ienzo’s gummiphone curiously. The device beeped, and Ienzo smiled.

“It’s actually rather close to this world,” he said, tilting the screen so Aeleus could see. “The trip wouldn’t be difficult at all.”

“Good. Do we have an agreement?” Marluxia asked.

“We do,” Ienzo said, sparing not a single moment’s glance at Even’s furious expression. “If you need more time to make any arrangements before you leave—”

“I will be ready to go in an hour,” Marluxia said.

“So soon? What about your…er, family?”

“I’ll make my explanations. I want to find Elrena as soon as possible.” He tugged the gloves off his hands, and went to the door, holding it open for them. “If you’ll excuse me, then.”

Ienzo and Aeleus glanced at one another. A pang of annoyance broke through Even’s frustration--those two always seemed as if they could hold entire conversations in a single look. They rose from the table and went to the door, leaving Even no choice but to follow.

Marluxia lead them back to the front door. “One hour,” he said, and closed the door before they could do anything more than nod.

“Ingrate,” Even muttered. “I can’t believe you agreed to this, Ienzo.”

“Do you mind if we argue while we walk? I’m rather hungry.” Ienzo set off down the road, in the direction of the marketplace.

“We would need to check on Arendelle anyway,” Aeleus said to Even as they followed. “Bringing him along doesn’t affect our goal.”

“If Demyx were from that world along with Larxene, don’t you think either of them would have mentioned it? It being her homeworld precludes it from being his! They would have met before!”

“Not necessarily, though I see your point,” Ienzo said. “Still, I’m very curious about these new memories they’ve recovered. If Xemnas considered them important, I would like to know why.”

“That’s assuming he’s telling the truth.”

“If he isn’t, I still don’t see the harm in taking him to Arendelle. Larxene might have information he doesn’t.”

“Oh? And if she does, are we going to take her wherever she likes? Do we intend to be ridiculously charitable to every person we come across, or only the ones who wanted us dead?”

“Even,” Aeleus said, “I'm no happier than you are. I don’t like Marluxia. Larxene either. But you told us you wanted to use our resources to help others now. That we have a responsibility to do so.”

“That’s--that isn’t…” Even faltered, taken off guard. “We should help people who deserve it.”

“Marluxia and Larxene are just as much victims of the Organization as we were.” Ienzo stopped, and looked back at Even. His gaze flickered downward for just a moment, towards Even’s chest, and Even knew he was thinking of the burn scars hiding beneath the layers of clothes. Even crossed his arms and looked away, but he heard Ienzo sigh.

“I know you were hurt by their machinations, Even,” he said. “I don’t want to minimize that. But we can’t pretend we were blameless for the events at Castle Oblivion, either.”

Even had no desire to continue the discussion. It was clear Ienzo had set his mind on helping them no matter what Even thought. He forced himself to uncross his arms.

“Do what you want,” he said, and he started off down the street again, not caring if they followed or not.

They spent the hour in a corner of the marketplace, eating some of the baker’s offerings while watching the preparations for the coronation continue. Ienzo occasionally commented on the goings-on, but Even said very little in response. When the hour was up, they made their way back to the florist’s street in silence.

Marluxia was already outside the shop as they approached, a large bag slung over his shoulder. The florist stood in the doorway, no longer smiling and looking quite worried; a tall man with dark hair stood beside her looking similarly concerned. Marluxia spoke a few words to them that Even couldn’t quite hear. The florist hugged him, and the man grasped Marluxia’s shoulder.

“Visit when you can,” the man said as they drew near. “We’ll be here.”

“I’ll try,” Marluxia said. “Thank you.” He looked at them for a moment, and then took both of their hands, very briefly, in his own. With a nod, he let go, and then turned and walked away, leaving the two in the doorway.

The trio had stopped a few yards away. Marluxia’s expression was set as he drew level with them. “Let’s go,” he said, and walked past them in the direction of the city gate without looking back.

They made good time back to the gummiship with Marluxia’s assistance, taking a few shortcuts around both the mine and the marsh, for which Even was begrudgingly grateful. It was still early afternoon, the sun shining brightly in the sky, when they reached the small clearing where they had hidden it.

Marluxia seemed intrigued by the ship, his eyes widening slightly as he took it in, but said nothing as they approached and climbed aboard. Ienzo plugged in the coordinates as the others took their seats, but Marluxia lingered at one of the windows, and stayed there as they took off, ignoring Aeleus’s warning that he might lose his footing. The ship’s outer blocks went transparent as they ascended, masking their departure. Even took his seat and watched Marluxia, who continued to stare out the window as the trees fell away, granting them one last glimpse of the shining city in the distance. It was only once they breached the atmosphere and the windows went dark that Marluxia sat down at last.

\----

The trip to Arendelle was an awkwardly quiet one. Aeleus manned the steering console, Ienzo concentrated on his gummiphone, and Even alternated between fuming to himself and watching Marluxia, who seemed content to ignore them all in favor of looking out the window of the ship. The journey was, at least, blessedly short; after only an hour of dodging meteors and the occasional Heartless ship, the console beeped softly, and they all looked up to see a world that looked rather like Corona, if slightly more mountainous. The ship’s outer blocks went transparent again as they descended.

“This world is fairly large,” Ienzo said, leaning over the console to get a better look out the window. “Do you have any idea about where she might be living?”

“She told me she lived alone outside of the main city.” Marluxia’s gaze was intent as they entered the atmosphere. “In the woods.”

“How specific," Even muttered. "And just where are we supposed to start looking?”

The ship slowed as they approached a city situated at the edge of a gleaming bay. It seemed a busy place, but they flew on past its border wall until they could see only trees, dipping and rising with the slopes of the mountain. Even frowned, about to ask how on earth they would find a lone homestead without any directions, when a flash of light, visible even in the afternoon sun, sparked in the window’s periphery.

“Look,” Aeleus said, and he gestured to a section of trees to their right. A winding column of smoke rose from the tops of the trees, quickly dispersing in the mountain breeze.

“There’s no guarantee that it’s her,” Even said.

“Let’s see.”

Aeleus directed the ship towards where the smoke had been, slowing further. As they began to skim the tops of the trees, more smoke billowed into the air only to be whipped away by the wind. There was another bright flash, and from this close it was now obvious what the source was: a jagged arc of lightning, stretching not upward into the sky but between the trees. The four watched the sparks crackling through the upper branches of nearby trees before dissipating, and then looked at one another.

“Well,” Ienzo said, “unless this world has very unusual weather, I think we’ve found her.”

“Let’s land.” Aeleus tilted the steering console downward, aiming for a treeless patch nearby.

Marluxia stayed by the window, watching the smoke still drifting above the treetops until it was blocked by branches. He was the first one out the door when they touched down, heading off quickly in the direction they had seen the lightning. The apprentices followed as fast as they could, Even shaking his head irritably.

The cool breeze carried with it the scent of burning wood and ozone, growing stronger as they moved. Even covered his nose with his sleeve. He had never been fond of the smell of smoke, and was even less fond of it now. Ienzo glanced at him and looked as if he was about to say something, but Even merely flapped his hand to quell him and hurried onward.

Marluxia was almost out of sight ahead of them, walking so fast that they ended up having to follow him by the sound of his footsteps, and the intensifying sharpness of the smell. They broke out of the treeline into a clearing, and pricks of static sparked against Even’s fingertips as they slowed. Marluxia was staring at a tall tree with a long jagged scar etched into its bark. The scar was slightly blurred, a heat haze drifting out of it. Even stayed where he was, having no intention of getting anywhere near a tree that could burst into flames, but Ienzo and Aeleus moved past him, looking around.

They had only taken a few steps before the air filled with a sharp whistling sound, and then the handles of two knives bloomed in the earth a foot in front of Aeleus’s boot. Another whistle, and a knife buried itself in the scarred wood of the burning tree, inches from Marluxia’s raised hand.

“I wouldn’t touch that,” said a sing-song voice above them. “Unless you wanna get burned.”

The four looked up, and there on a high branch perched Larxene. She was only partially visible through the leaves, but the glint of her smile—and another knife in her hand—flashed bright. The branch rustled, and within seconds she landed lightly on the ground in front of Marluxia.

She plucked the knife from the wood and blew lightly on the blade, and then she grinned fiercely. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think I’d have to stick around this dump forever.”

Marluxia smiled. “How terrible. I came as soon as I could.”

“Hmm. I guess I forgive you.” Her grin lessened as she looked over at the three apprentices. “Or maybe not. Did you have to bring these losers with you?”

“Excuse me,” Even said, crossing his arms, “he wouldn’t even be on this world without our assistance. You should be thanking us.”

Larxene laughed. “Ha! Thanking you? Only in your wildest dreams, Vexen.” Her gaze shifted to Aeleus and Ienzo. “So, did he come crawling back with some sob story about the old man forcing him to join the real Organization, or are you two just taking pity on him?”

“How dare you—”

“That’s enough,” Marluxia said. “They really did help me get here. None of us are able to use the dark corridors anymore, apparently. I would’ve been here sooner otherwise.”

“You too, huh?” She looked at the tree with a critical eye. “I’ve been trying, but it’s nothing like it was before. I could’ve vaporized this in seconds as a Nobody.”

Marluxia's smile widened. "You haven't changed at all, Elrena."

Larxene froze. She looked at Marluxia with an emotion Even had never seen on her face before: uncertainty. Her cocky smile was replaced with hesitant frown. “Since when do you know my other name? I never told you. Did I?”

Marluxia held her gaze intently. “You…told me a long time ago. Before.” He watched her closely as he spoke. “When we first met.”

“When I joined the Organization? I only told Xemnas…and I didn’t want to do that, anyway.”

“No, not then,” Marluxia said, and he moved a little closer, touching her arm. She looked to his hand, then back up at him, confusion plain on her face. His frown deepened. “You don’t remember at all, do you?”

“Remember what?” she asked defensively. “Stop it.”

“Elrena…” Marluxia watched her closely, his gaze intent but almost pained. “I know this is going to sound confusing to you, but please listen to what I have to say. You and I met a long time ago. Far before either of us joined the Organization. You helped me look for someone very important, but something happened, and we were separated.”

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but her voice held a hint of a tremble.

“Yes, you do. You’ve just forgotten. I forgot too. But I remember now—not everything. But I remember you.” He took a deep breath. “And I remember Strelitzia.”

At the sound of the name—at least, presumably it was a name, but not one Even had ever heard before—Larxene’s eyes widened for just a moment, and then they shut tight, her face suddenly screwed up in apparent pain. She brought her empty hand to her head, covering her face and muffling her voice. “What are you—stop it—”

“You know I’m telling the truth. Why else did I trust you immediately, when we met in the Organization? Why did you trust me? You aren’t the type to put your faith in someone without a reason.” Marluxia carefully took her by the shoulders, and said, “How else would I know your true name?”

“Someone told you...”

“Yes. _You_. And you know mine. Don’t you?”

When she finally lowered her hand, it was shaking. She stared up at Marluxia with wide and awe-struck eyes, looking at him as if she was seeing him properly for the very first time. After a long pause, she said, in a voice far quieter than anyone in the clearing had ever heard her speak with before, “L…Lauriam.”

Marluxia smiled, and it held no hint of mockery or derision as the ones in Even’s memories did. His shoulders dropped a few inches in relief, and he nodded. “That’s right.” And then, to Even’s astonishment, he hugged her, still smiling in relief. “I missed you.”

Larxene looked just as shocked at the gesture as Even was. After a moment she lifted an arm and put it around him hesitantly. Even exchanged a look with Ienzo and Aeleus, who both looked how he felt: surprised, and uncomfortable at witnessing such an emotional moment between their former colleagues. Larxene seemed to feel the same, because when Marluxia released her she looked suddenly over at the three, and her frown returned.

“Come on,” she said, and without another word she took off from the clearing. Marluxia immediately followed, and the three apprentices were left to look at each other in bewilderment before going after them.

“Unless they somehow staged that, I think we can assume Lauriam is telling the truth about their memories,” Ienzo murmured to Even and Aeleus as they hurried to catch up.

“I…suppose,” Even said. He had to admit it would’ve been a very impressive feat indeed, even for two as notoriously sneaky as Larxene and Marluxia.

It wasn't long before they reached a small cabin in another clearing, the wood of which also bore some of the deep scars of Larxene's lightning. Many of the surrounding trees were marked by similar scars, and there was again the faint scent of ozone, accompanied by a slight feeling of static in the air. Marluxia waited just long enough for them to see him in the doorway before going inside, leaving the door open.

The interior of the cabin was was messy and cluttered, but somehow still held an air of disuse. Some of the rooms had clearly been occupied recently, but others held thick layers of dust on the furniture and floors. Despite the mess, there was no sign that anyone else lived in the cabin. An old bag was lying open on a nearby table in the small kitchen, stuffed full of clothes, and as they entered, Larxene came in from another door and tossed another shirt in the bag's direction. Marluxia, standing at the table, caught it and folded it neatly before laying it in the bag.

"And where do you think you're going in such a hurry?" Even asked as they she left the room again.

"With you guys, obviously," she called from another room. "I'm not staying here."

"That's incredibly presumptuous--"

“Look, I don’t care where you weirdos drop me off, I just want off of this rock,” she said as she re-entered. 

“And what makes you think we’re going to just do whatever you tell us to?” 

Ienzo didn't wait for her to answer. “We’re happy to take you wherever you like—”

“Oh, we are, are we?” Even muttered. 

“But we do have a few questions to ask you, Elrena,” Ienzo finished.

“Sure, whatever,” she said, crossing the room drop a small coin purse in her bag.

Marluxia spoke up. “Elrena, do you remember Demyx?”

She stopped long enough to give him a look. “Really wish I didn’t.”

Marluxia’s lips twitched, but he clarified, “I meant, do you remember him from before?”

“Why would I remember him from before? I barely remember you.” She stopped, and narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Is this about that ancient keyblade whatever that Xemnas was blabbering about? You can’t seriously think we’re connected to that wimp. “

“I can’t be sure. I don’t remember enough,” Lauriam said. “But I do think that Xemnas was on to something.”

“Come on. He was just jerking us around like usual. He wanted us to feel like we were there for a reason—you heard Luxord. As soon as they told him he had something to do, he was happy to come back. And Demyx just wanted to save his own skin.”

“But you and I are connected. It’s possible they were as well.”

“I guess. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Actually,” Ienzo broke in, “it does to us. We’re searching for Demyx, so if you do remember anything that might help us find him, it would be a great help.”

She looked at each of them, and smirked. "Sorry, boys. Don't remember a thing."

"Elrena," Marluxia said quietly. "Nothing?"

"Nope. Like I said, I barely remember you. And anyway, I don't really see what's in it for me if I _did_ remember, considering I don't owe _you_ losers," she said, throwing a look at the apprentices, "a single thing."

"And yet," Even said, "you think you can demand we fly you across the galaxy?" 

"You're going to have to leave anyway, unless you plan on sticking around this dump."

“Well,” Ienzo said slowly, “perhaps we could strike some sort of deal.”

They all turned to look at him. He was tapping his chin thoughtfully with one finger, and Even could tell from his expression that he had spent the last few minutes thinking very quickly.

“A deal?” Larxene asked, raising an eyebrow. "With you?"

“Yes. We want to find Demyx, and the pair of you might be able to help if you were able to recover your memories in full. It so happens that we have access to technology that might allow you to do so.”

“Ienzo—” Even began, but was immediately cut off.

“What kind of technology?” Marluxia asked. “Castle Oblivion is no more.”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t referring to Castle Oblivion. Our master, Ansem the Wise, built a computer with which he was able to rewrite Roxas’s memories when he captured him. It’s a rather long story, but we were able to use that same computer to restore his original memories to a vessel, enabling his return.”

“That brat’s back?” Larxene asked.

“Yes, and Namine too.”

At the mention of Namine, both of their expressions changed, in different ways—Larxene pulled a face and crossed her arms, while Marluxia’s eyes widened slightly before he looked down at his hands still clasped on the table. He spoke without looking up at them.

“Are you saying you could restore our memories in the same way?”

“Perhaps not exactly the same,” Ienzo said. “But it’s certainly possibly that we might be able to use similar methods. I can’t guarantee that it will work, but I believe it would be worth it to try.”

“Ienzo, may I speak to you in private, please?” Even said through gritted teeth. He didn’t give Ienzo time to answer, but rather took him by the shoulder and steered him into the next room, knowing Aeleus would follow. The door had barely shut before Even spun Ienzo around and took him by the shoulders.

“Are you insane?” he hissed. “You cannot actually be intending to help Marluxia and Larxene, of all people!

“Even, I know you dislike them—”

“Dislike doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it,” Even said, “and that is beside the point. We would have to bring them back to Radiant Garden! The children are going to be visiting often so we can check the condition of their vessels, and we have no earthly idea how long it might take to restore their memories, if we are even capable of doing so—”

“I think the idea is sound,” Ienzo said calmly. “We were able to fully restore Roxas’s lost memories even after Master Ansem modified them so heavily.”

“The soundness of it is irrelevant, and you know exactly what I mean! Do you truly intend to bring them to the Garden? Do you actually think it’s a good idea to have those two in a place so close to Namine? Have we not made her suffer enough at their hands?”

Ienzo paused, and frowned slightly. “Do you think they would try to hurt her?”

“I doubt it,” Aeleus said. “They have no need of her powers now.”

“Yes they do!” Even said. “That’s exactly the point! She has the ability to alter and restore memories—she is _exactly_ what they require. You two cannot be so incredibly dense as to believe they wouldn’t just find her and force her to help them.”

The door behind them swung open. Larxene leaned against the door frame, looking highly unimpressed, and Marluxia stood at her shoulder, frowning slightly.

“You three really are the definition of unsubtle, huh?” Larxene said. “You should learn to keep your voice down, Vexen. Not that you’ve ever been quiet.”

Marluxia moved past her into the room. He looked at Ienzo intently. “Do you really believe you can assist us with our memories?”

“I do,” Ienzo said.

“Then we would have no need for Namine’s abilities. It wouldn’t be necessary for us to meet at all. If you’re confident that you can help us, we’ll go with you to your world. If Namine visits, then we’ll stay away from her.”

“Hey, hey—I never said I wanted to go,” Larxene said.

Marluxia frowned. “Elrena—”

“Go hang out with these losers? Who wanted us dead? No thanks," she said with disgust. “We can get our memories back on our own. We don’t need their help.”

“I’ve been trying for the last three weeks to remember more on my own. It hasn’t worked. Whatever happened to us, there’s something…blocking me, whenever I try to think about it.” His voice softened slightly as he looked Larxene in the eyes. “I need to know what happened, to us, and…the others. I _need_ to know. But we’ll never find them if we can’t remember what happened to them, Elrena.”

“…I know that. But I don’t want to waste any more time.” She crossed her arms, turning away from him, but after a moment she spoke again. “Hey. Zexion.”

“Ienzo, thank you.”

“Right. Ienzo. What if Lauriam goes with you, and I go…look for Demyx? You want to find him, right?”

“Oh,” Ienzo said, surprised. “Would you do that?”

Marluxia was frowning again, but seemed almost contemplative. “We do have people we want to find,” he said. “And very little idea of where they might be. It wouldn’t be hard to add two more people to the list.”

“Wait, two?” Larxene asked.

“We’re looking for Braig, too,” Aeleus said.

“Braig? Who’s—wait, _Xigbar_? You’ve gotta be kidding! I wouldn’t look for him if you paid me!”

“Even if that payment were, say, a ship that could take you wherever you wanted to go in the galaxy?” Ienzo said slyly. “You’ll cover a lot more ground in our ship than you would on your own.”

“We are not giving her our ship! Have you two lost your minds!?” Even could watch quietly no longer. “We are not letting either of them come to the Garden!”

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. “If it’s Namine you’re worried about, I’ll stay far away from her. She would never have to see me. Roxas either, or anyone else, if that’s what you want.” He paused, and his voice was a little tight, as if his next words were difficult for him to say. “I’ll do whatever you like, if it means you’ll help me with my memories.”

Silence fell in the room. Marluxia, of all people, seriously declaring that he would do whatever they asked of him? Even couldn’t believe it, and from the looks on Ienzo, Aeleus, and Larxene's faces, they couldn’t either. Marluxia caught Even’s gaze and held it, however, quite intently. Even narrowed his eyes, but there was nothing in Marluxia’s expression that hinted that he was lying. This meant nothing, of course. Marluxia had always been good at lying.

“Well,” Ienzo said slowly, “we are in need of someone who can help look after the flowers while the town’s restoration is completed. If you’re interested, of course.”

"Absolutely not," said Even. "We can't make such a decision without considering Namine's opinion."

“We could ask her.” Aeleus shrugged when the other two looked at him. “We could. It wouldn’t take long.”

“That’s true,” Ienzo said, pulling his gummiphone from his pocket. “Her opinion is important. If she says no, we’ll think of something else. But if she says yes, then there isn’t a problem.”

Even shook his head. “You know as well as I do that she’s far too acquiescent to say no.”

“I dunno. She was getting pretty feisty last time,” Larxene muttered. “Whatever. I’m not done packing.” She left the room, a little too quickly, and Marluxia followed her with a glance at the phone in Ienzo’s hand. Neither seemed in a hurry to stay, which was possibly the first sign of sensibility Even had seen from either of them.

Ienzo tapped the screen a few times, and the phone began to dial, a small picture of Namine's face appearing on the screen. It quickly disappeared, replaced by an image of the real Namine. Only a little was visible past her, but she seemed to be on a beach, the sky growing pink behind her.

“Ienzo?” She looked rather surprised, and more surprised still when she caught sight of Even and Aeleus. “Oh—hello.”

“Hello, Namine," Ienzo said. "I hope you’re well. Do you have a moment?”

Another voice issued from the phone from a person off screen. “Namine? Who is it?” The screen shifted slightly, and a face quite similar to Namine’s poked into view, purplish-blue eyes peering curiously from beneath red hair. “Oh—the scientists! Hello!”

“Hello, Kairi,” Ienzo said with a smile. Even and Aeleus nodded, unsure of what to say.

“Hi! Riku, come say hello!” Kairi leaned off-screen for a moment, and then another person was pulled into view, leaning down a little awkwardly.

“Oh,” Riku said, his eyebrows raising slightly as he caught sight of who was calling. “Hey.” 

“Did you need something, Ienzo? Are you all back home now?” Namine asked.

“Ah—well, no, not yet. We haven’t found Demyx or Braig yet, and I’m sorry to we’ve seen no sign of Sora, either, but…we have a question for you. It’s a rather uncomfortable one, I’m afraid, but we need to ask your opinion on something.”

“Oh,” she said. “Um, okay. Go ahead.”

"Well," Ienzo said, "We’ve located Marluxia—rather, his recompleted self. And Larxene as well.”

Namine’s eyes went wide. At the edges of the screen, both Kairi and Riku looked at her with concern. Even wondered just how much Namine had told them about her time in Castle Oblivion’s walls, and shifted uncomfortably. He had been able to restore her to a proper vessel, but there was no way to know how much of their mistreatment she still held against any of them.

It took Namine a moment to speak. “Oh. I…I see.”

“I’m sorry to bring up unpleasant memories,” Ienzo said quietly. “I truly am.”

“It’s—it’s okay. Don’t worry,” she said quickly. “What do you need to ask me?”

“The situation is rather complicated, but to put it simply, they…need our help. And we can only do that if they accompany us back to Radiant Garden. ”

“They can’t go anywhere else?” Kairi asked, moving slightly more into view. One of her hands was resting reassuringly on Namine’s shoulder. “Or wait? Namine’s going to come visit you for a check up soon.”

“We’re aware of that,” Even said, leaning forward a little. “Unfortunately, we don’t know how long our…assisting them will take,” he said, trying to keep his distaste out of his voice. “It’s distinctly possible that even if they were to wait for you to leave Radiant Garden again, they might still be there on your next visit.”

“Which comes to our question, Namine," Ienzo said. “We’re all aware of how uncomfortable this might be for you. Lauriam—Marluxia—has promised that he’ll keep far away from you and the others, if that’s what it takes for us to assist him. We would do our utmost to keep the two of you separated. The castle itself is quite large, and so is the town. There would be very little reason for either of you to be in the same areas at the same time.”

Namine nodded slowly. “Right…”

“What about Larxene?” Riku asked.

“She doesn’t want to come,” Aeleus said. “Lauriam will be the only one in Radiant Garden, at least for now.”

“Namine, you don’t have to agree to this,” Even said. He ignored the glances of Aeleus and Ienzo, looking only at Namine. “This is purely your decision. If you don’t want Marluxia in Radiant Garden, that is that. He will simply have to find help elsewhere.”

“Even—”

“Ienzo, we already agreed that this decision was up to Namine,” Even said stiffly.

“We did.” Ienzo looked back to the phone. “Even is right. It’s up to you. But you have my word that you would never have to interact with him at all, if you were to agree.”

“We’ll guarantee it,” Aeleus added.

Namine was quiet for a long moment, not quite looking at any of them. Even saw Riku and Kairi share a concerned glance.

“Namine? You can say no,” Kairi said softly, squeezing her shoulder.

Namine nodded, carefully, as if she were assuring herself that was indeed an option. After a moment, she asked, “What…what kind of help do they need? If it’s going to take such a long time?”

“Well…it seems that they’ve become aware of some missing memories, recently,” Ienzo said. “Lauriam told us a little—he said that he’s been missing them for quite a while now, but recently he’s begun to recall some parts of his past that he had lost. We think we might be able to speed the process along using a method similar to the one we used to prepare vessels for you and Roxas. But we aren’t sure how long that will take, as we may need to reconstruct the data piece by piece.”

“Do you mean that they lost memories in Castle Oblivion? I didn’t do anything to theirs….”

“No, it has nothing to do with your powers. Though the irony was not lost on us,” Even said dryly.

“It appears to be memories of their adolescence, far before they joined the Organization,” Ienzo said. “We think they might actually be able to help us find Demyx, if they were to recover enough of their memories. It’s possible that they knew him during that time.”

“Or it might not be of any help at all. Regardless, if you don’t want him in Radiant Garden, then that is the end of it,” Even added, leaning over Ienzo’s shoulder. “His problems certainly aren’t our responsibility, and they needn’t cause you any discomfort, either.” He hesitated, and added, “I’m aware that our presence most likely causes you discomfort as well, considering our roles in Castle Oblivion, but as your current body is one of my creations…”

“Oh—you don’t have to worry, I’m not…it’s okay,” Namine said. “I like Radiant Garden. It’s pretty, and peaceful. And I know you all want to help—you’ve already done so much. I wouldn’t be here without you all.” She fell silent again, frowning slightly at her lap. Riku touched her arm without a word, and she looked at him, and then at Kairi, who said nothing, but squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Namine took a deep breath, and said carefully, “I…think it’s okay.”

“Really?” Ienzo asked. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I don’t mind,” she said, though the tightness at the corners of her eyes as she smiled said otherwise. “If you can help them, you should try. No one should have to lose precious memories…I know it’s very painful.” Her shoulders tensed, and though her hands weren’t visible, Even could just picture them tightening around the gummiphone. She nodded again, though, a little more confidently. “And if they can help you find Demyx, then that’s good. I want to thank him for helping with our vessels.”

“Are you totally sure, Namine?” Even said. “Sympathy is one thing, but you don’t need to say yes.”

“…I’m sure. But I…don’t want to see him, if I don’t have to.”

“You won’t,” Ienzo reassured her, “we’ll make quite certain of it. We really appreciate this, Namine, truly. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and while she still seemed uncertain, she smiled at Ienzo’s gratitude. “Well…I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Yes, of course. See you soon.” 

The screen went dark, and Ienzo pocketed the device again. Even clenched his jaw, biting back an angry remark. Ienzo glanced up at him. 

"I know you're unhappy with this," he said, "and I understand, but we agreed that it was her decision. If we're able to assist Lauriam, it might prove useful for others in the future--Demyx, for instance, once he's found. If he's suffering from the same amnesia, knowing an effective strategy will be beneficial to him."

"If he causes any trouble," Aeleus said, "we'll take care of it."

"Yes, because we were so effective at putting a stop to his endeavors last time," Even said.

"This isn't last time."

"Forgive me if that doesn't provide as much comfort as you seem to think it will. Go on, then," he said, waving a hand, "tell them whatever you like. But the moment he steps out of line, that is _it_. That girl has suffered enough, and the other children, too. I don't intend stand by and see them come to harm again." 

Aeleus and Ienzo exchanged a look, and once again Even felt shut out. He knew they thought his concern for the children was unusual, but after spending weeks creating as perfect a vessel as he could devise for each of them, his protectiveness seemed only natural to him. Allowing successful experiments to come to ruin was absolutely impermissible. Aeleus nodded, and Ienzo did too.

"Noted," he said. "You aren't the only one concerned for them, Even. But if we do truly intend to use our work to help others, we may as well start here." 

As he and Aeleus left the room, Even found himself bitterly wondering whether assisting Marluxia, of all people, was meant to be part of his atonement, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	2. R. graveolens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait; things have been pretty wild recently kinda, uh, all over? I'm sure y'all know what I mean. I hope all of you are staying safe and taking care of yourselves, and hopefully this new chapter can give you a little break! Let me know what you think!

The ride through space to Radiant Garden was quiet, which Lauriam was grateful for. He didn’t think he could handle much more of Vexen’s—Even’s— _Vexen_ ’s outbursts, or more of Zexion pretending to be ever so helpful. Lexaeus seemed to be just as quiet as ever, a small blessing, though he scowled slightly less than he did before. Even Elrena was silent, sitting next to Lauriam in the back of the cockpit. She had her arms crossed like she was keeping herself from drawing one of her knives as she stared out the windows at the stars, or at the backs of the others gathered up at the control console. Occasionally she gave Lauriam a look, a frown with one eyebrow raised, but shrugged when he matched it, and said nothing. 

Lauriam sighed very quietly through his nose. He knew that while she’d finally agreed to the present arrangement, Elrena still thought it was an insane idea to accept help from these three, and Lauriam couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t any happier than she was, though there were very few options for them to take at the moment. Beyond asking Namine, there was no one else he could think of that would be able to assist with his memories. 

Namine was absolutely out of the question. He wasn’t a fool; there was no way she would want to help him, not after how he had treated her at Castle Oblivion. What was more, he had no inclination to subject himself to the torrent of negative emotions he knew he would feel upon seeing her again. Even hearing her name made his stomach twist unpleasantly. No, it was best to not even contemplate her as an avenue for assistance—there was no reason for either of them to see one another at all. 

And besides, he now had another option. It was nearly as unpleasant, in his opinion, but he was tired of wasting time. He’d spent the last couple of weeks trying to piece together the memories that had flooded him the second time he’d faded, but they were so disjointed that it was difficult to know where to start. 

The most important memory was, of course, Strelitzia. His dearest little sister. Even now, he couldn’t believe he’d ever been able to forget someone so precious to him. The memory of her, her soft voice and sweet smile and earnest heart, had come first and strongest, a bright and buoying presence in the tumult. It was as if he had been living in a house with heavily curtained windows, and one long forgotten window had suddenly opened, letting soft daylight into a darkened room. Elrena’s memory was another window, the curtain falling away. The glass of both, though, was warped, and what was visible through them could be seen only in strange and discordant pieces. He knew there were other windows, other doorways, just beyond his reach, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite bring them into focus. 

As a result, he had only been able to put together the major parts of his past. Strelitzia was his little sister, and long ago they had been keyblade wielders together in a city rather like the capital of Corona until… _something_ had happened, something he couldn’t quite reach but that gave him a sick feeling of fear whenever he tried to think of it. Whatever it was, he hadn’t been able to find Strelitzia after, and Elrena had helped him search for her. 

Beyond that, very little seemed to make sense. There were shadowed faces, muffled voices, flashes of emotion, but little to string them together. It was maddening, and had done nothing to improve his emotional state during his time in Corona. He’d spent most of his days since his recompletion going through the motions of normalcy while trying to think of any possible way off of the world, and he didn’t regret leaving it behind, nor was he in a rush to return. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t missed the place—he had, even without his heart. He had particularly missed his parents. They weren’t his birth parents, of course, but the two had taken him in when he still wasn’t quite an adult, wandering alone without any memories, and he knew they considered him to be their son. They were kind people, and he regretted how much his absence had hurt them while he was gone as much as he regretted the pain and worry he could see in their eyes when he’d informed them he was leaving once again.

Lauriam resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. This was something he had _not_ missed when he’d lacked a heart: all of the burdensome emotions like guilt and regret, which made it so much harder to make decisions with a cool head. He regretted hurting them with his absence, but leaving was something he simply had to do. He knew now, without any doubt, that he didn’t belong there, that his home and family really were somewhere else. Here was proof at last that the void he had carried in his heart since he had first woken up in Corona years ago, knowing his name and little else, hadn’t been merely a defect of his personality but the result of cherished parts of him having been sealed away. Suddenly gaining an opportunity to leave that world without having to experience the unpleasant process of losing his heart yet again was something he couldn’t just throw away.

The arrival of his former colleagues had thus been the worst kind of blessing. Lauriam couldn’t help but wonder if he should consider it a punishment for his previous actions in the Organization, being forced to ask Vexen, Zexion, and Lexaeus of all people for help. At least they had assisted in finding Elrena, something he really was grateful for, despite everything. Hearing her say his true name for the first time in years had filled him with a warm relief he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling. It was proof that he wasn’t losing his mind, that someone else remembered him as he had once been. But Elrena would only be in Radiant Garden for a day before leaving again, and then he would be alone with the others…

Lauriam folded his hands tightly in his lap. There was nothing to be done about it. Either they would be able to assist with his memories, and he would finally know what had happened to him so long ago, or their attempts would fail, and he would contact Elrena and they would leave Radiant Garden and its inhabitants far behind. Either way, it was as Zexion had said. It would be foolish to not use resources when they presented themselves, even if they were incredibly obnoxious and untrustworthy resources. 

He glanced up at the three, and found to his annoyance that Vexen was watching him from the corner of his eye. Lauriam straightened up and met his gaze, holding it without a word. A muscle in Vexen’s jaw twitched, but he turned away with a haughty sniff. Free of observation, Lauriam rolled his eyes. Truly as obnoxious as ever, heart or no. 

“Ah,” Zexion said suddenly, “nearly there.” 

He pointed out the window, and Lauriam looked up to see a large world drawing nearer. Elrena leaned over slightly to look past him, interest or perhaps simply relief from boredom lightening her features. Lauriam’s annoyance faded, replaced by curiosity, and he too leaned forward to take a better look at where he would be staying for the foreseeable future. 

The world really was radiant, even in the dimming light as night approached. From this distance Lauriam could see that there were few other words to describe it—the world shone bright with color, light glimmering off waterways and fountains that cast rainbows into the air surrounding a huge castle at the center of a circular city. As they drew closer, he could see that parts of it weren’t quite as lovely as the others, but there was evidence of construction. Cranes and other machinery ranged around the outer sections of the circular town, as well as in the sections to the left-hand side of the castle. 

“Our world suffered greatly during its time in the darkness. Parts of the city are still under construction, as well as the gardens,” Zexion said as they descended. “But the castle is rebuilt, for the most part, and the residential areas and the marketplace are closed to being fully restored. The Restoration Committee is doing quite well, all things considered.”

Lauriam could make out a long staircase connecting the castle to the rest of the city, terminating at a gate that opened to a town square surrounded by houses. Standing at the edge of the square, looking up at the ship as it descended, were three figures. Elrena made a noise of distaste as she recognized one of them at the same time Lauriam did: Xaldin, his hair a little neater in its ponytail and wearing a sharp blue uniform, but unmistakably their old colleague. His arms were crossed, and though Lauriam couldn’t quite make out his expression, he could just picture the familiar frown. Beside him stood a tall older man in a long white coat, a red scarf resting on his shoulders just beneath the tips of his blonde hair. The third figure was a woman, her hair tied back in a neat braid with a pink ribbon that matched her dress, the skirts of which whipped in the wind kicked up by the gummiship engine. 

They touched down with a slight jostle. Lexaeus rose from his seat and went to the door, holding it open. Vexen exited quickly, and Zexion followed. Lexaeus waited, looking solemnly over at Lauriam and Elrena. 

“Aw, how _polite_ ,” Elrena muttered, but she stood up anyway, and together she and Lauriam left the ship, their bags slung over their shoulders.

Even the air of this world was light and refreshing, a gentle breeze carrying the scents of flowers and running water. Lauriam breathed it in as he went down the ramp towards the three who awaited them. Xaldin really was frowning, and it only deepened as he caught sight of Lauriam and Elrena, his violet eyes narrowing. The older man and the woman were smiling, however, and both greeted Zexion and Vexen cheerfully. 

Zexion returned the greeting, but Vexen only nodded, wearing a frown identical to Xaldin’s. As Vexen moved away, Lauriam thought he heard Xaldin murmur something, and while he couldn’t quite make out the words, he did hear Vexen’s response.

“As if this was my idea,” he hissed, crossing his arms tightly. 

Xaldin only shook his head in answer, gaze flickering back to Lauriam and Elrena. Lexaeus glanced at the unhappy pair with a slight frown, but if Zexion heard, he showed no sign. He had been chatting quietly with the woman, but now he turned to face the old man again, smiling.

“Master Ansem, this is Lauriam and Elrena,” Zexion said, gesturing at the two of them in turn. “Elrena, Lauriam, this is our teacher, Lord Ansem the Wise. 

“Please,” Ansem said, “there’s no need for titles. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He held out a hand to Lauriam, who shook it with a nod. He’d heard a few whispers about an Ansem the Wise during his time in the old Organization, and knew Xehanort had been searching for him quite recently too. The old man held himself as if he were used to ceremony, despite his words. 

“An honor,” Lauriam said. “We appreciate your hospitality.” A few feet away, he heard Vexen cough, almost certainly to hide a snort. Lauriam ignored him entirely. 

Ansem’s mouth twitched, but he directed his smile to Elrena, holding out his hand again. She had been hovering just behind Lauriam, but after a moment she leaned forward and shook his hand too, quickly but firmly. 

“And this,” said Zexion, holding a hand out to the woman with the braid, “is Aerith. She’s a member of the Restoration Committee, so she can tell you whatever you’d like to know about the world. She’ll also show you where you’ll be staying.” He smiled at the pair, the picture of politeness. “If you need anything from us, we’ll most likely be in the castle. It’s getting late, so I’m sure you’re both tired, but I’ll try to visit later tomorrow once you’re settled in.”

Lauriam nodded, and Zexion nodded back with a polite smile before turning and heading for the large gate that stood in front of the castle steps. Ansem and the rest of his students followed, though Vexen threw one last look at them over his shoulder, eyes narrowed suspiciously once again. Lauriam only raised an eyebrow, but Elrena twiddled her fingers at him with a smirk. Vexen grimaced and stomped off after his colleagues.

“ _Finally,_ ” Elrena said, putting a hand on her hip. “I thought we’d have to put up with their garbage the whole night.”

“Elrena,” Lauriam said quietly.

“Come on, I know you’re happy they’re gone.”

The look she gave him was so familiar that Lauriam couldn’t help but smile. “You aren’t wrong.”

“Am I ever?”

Aerith let out a slight laugh. “You two are close, I take it.”

“Guess so,” Elrena said nonchalantly, but she was smiling. “So, you’re our tour guide?”

“I’d like to think of myself as a helpful new friend,” Aerith said, and while her smile was sweet, there was something in her expression that told Lauriam she would not put up with Elrena’s attitude if pressed. “The others should be putting the finishing touches on where you’ll be staying right about now. Shall we?” 

She waited just long enough for them to nod before she turned on her heel and led the way across the small bridge to the gate, pushing it open with ease

“He’s staying in the castle?” Elrena asked, looking up at it with distaste. They could just see the others nearing the top of the long staircase.

“No, it’s a house in the garden grounds,” Aerith replied as they started up the stairs themselves. “We’re still rebuilding some of the residential areas, and Ienzo told us you were intending to stay mostly in the gardens, so we thought it might be easier.”

Lauriam wondered if Zexion had also told them to isolate him from the rest of the town, but kept his thoughts to himself. If Aerith and her colleagues were unaware of precisely why Lauriam would be keeping to the gardens, he saw no reason to inform them until it was necessary.

He looked around as they climbed, taking in the view of the town, and then up at the castle ahead. An enormous gear-work mechanism was embedded into the wall above the massive front doors, and for a split second they flashed in his vision, replaced by a similar set of gears above the swinging pendulum of an enormous clock-tower.

Lauriam’s foot slipped on the edge of a step in surprise. He quickly regained his balance, and when he looked back up, the image was gone, the castle towering above them once again. Elrena shot him a questioning look, but he only shook his head. They could discuss their memories later, alone.

“Watch your step,” Aerith said over her shoulder as they reached a landing halfway up to the castle. “You’ll be able to access the eastern gardens from the inner and outer walls too, but you can cut across the city quickly using these paths.”

From this height, Lauriam could see that the two paths that descended from the landing cut right through the cliffs surrounding the castle. Between the cliffs and the castle itself, however, was a deep moat, mist swirling through the gap. 

Aerith pushed open the gate to the landing, and pointed down the left-hand path. “The west garden is down that way. It’s already in bloom,” she said with a smile. “We managed to get everything planted there before spring. The path circles around the back of the castle to the northern garden—that one is brand new, so it’s empty right now—and keeps going until you reach the east garden. That one is pretty bare too, unfortunately.” 

She quickly crossed the landing to yet another gate to their right, pushing it open. Lauriam followed, but turned to look for a moment in the direction of the west garden. From this far up, he could see the tops of trees and splashes of color filling a large wedge-shaped section of city.

“We can take a walk through it tomorrow if you want,” Aerith said. She was still holding the gate open for them, and Elrena stood beside her, hands on her hips.

“That would be nice,” Lauriam said. “I’d like to know what grows here.”

“All kinds of flowers and plants, really,” Aerith replied as they set off down the path. “There’s a seed bank in the castle, and luckily it was still intact when the world was restored.” 

“Seed bank?” Elrena asked.

“It’s a vault that stores seeds for every variety of flower or plant that grows in this world, in case of disaster. We’re very lucky that most of the seeds are still viable—it’s been really helpful when it comes to replanting.”

Yet another gate at the end of the path opened onto the eastern garden. It was another wide wedge-shaped area, though far less colorful than its twin on the other side of town; patchy grass grew around the path that led down through a combination of terraced beds and flat land, dotted by the occasional sparse bush or sapling. There was so little in this area that they could easily see the tall stone wall marking the boundary at the far end of the garden, at the base of which rested a small building. 

“We weren’t able to get much work done here before spring,” Aerith said, leading the way once more. “We used the west garden as a testing ground for the seeds, but I wasn’t able to spend much time in the other areas, since we still have work to do in town.”

“You replanted it all yourself?”

“I had a lot of help, but I volunteered to oversee the project, yes. There are few species that we didn’t have room to test, so you can give them a try, if you want to.”

“I would love to.” Lauriam had more questions—many more, he was surprised to find, but he didn’t have time to ask, as they had quickly come upon the far end of the garden, the path terminating in front of the little building that he now realized was a small house. 

“Is that it?” Elrena asked, sounding rather unimpressed.

“That’s right,” Aerith said. “It was supposed to be a temporary storage building for supplies while we worked on the garden, but when we heard you were coming, Leon and the others fixed it up a little for you.”

It did look rather freshly assembled, almost patchwork, as if it had once been a smaller building suddenly forced to become a larger one in a hurry. The roof and walls matched the style of the rest of the residences in the town, but plainer, with fewer embellishments. On either side of the door was a sizable window, pale curtains visible through the glass. A shadow passed along the curtain, and Lauriam thought he could hear muffled voices from inside. 

Aerith went to the door; as she pulled it open, the voices quieted for a moment before starting back up again, all speaking at once.

“Aerith!”

“‘Bout time. Almost finished.”

“Are they here?” 

The owner of the last voice appeared in the doorway, a young man with shaggy brown hair and a scar between his eyes that reminded Lauriam faintly of Saix. Aerith smiled at him and stepped aside so he could see the two newcomers. 

“This is Leon,” she said, “head of our Restoration Committee. He—”

“He helped move all your new furniture!” A girl with short dark hair bounded up to the doorway, squeezing between Leon and Aerith. “Cid’s making you dinner. Merlin helped us rearrange some walls in here, too, but he left a little while ago.”

“And what have you been doing, Yuffie?” Aerith asked.

“Supervising, obviously.” Yuffie grinned at Lauriam and Elrena, hands on her hips. “Come in! We can show you around!”

Leon shook his head as she disappeared back into the house. “Sorry about this,” he said. “We were trying to finish up before you arrived.”

“We appreciate you taking the trouble,” Lauriam said, and went to shake his hand. “I’m Lauriam. This is Elrena.”

“Oh, you’re the one taking the gummiship, right?” Leon asked Elrena. “Cid wants to show you a few things—”

“We can wait ‘til tomorrow. Dinner’s done.” The last of the voices belonged to an older man with short blonde hair and a rough accent. “Nothin’ special, but it’s gettin’ late, and Ienzo said you both had a long day.” He chewed contemplatively on a toothpick as he crossed his arms, eyeing them over for a moment before nodding abruptly. “Name’s Cid. C’mon in.”

Lauriam glanced at Elrena, who only shrugged, and the two followed the others inside. Whatever Cid had cooked for them, it smelled rather good, though it didn’t quite mask the scent of fresh paint that lingered in the air. Aerith pulled the curtains back from one of the front windows, which let in plenty of light even in the deepening twilight. 

The front door opened almost directly onto what Lauriam assumed was a living room. A wooden table stood in the center of it, a few mis-matched chairs ranged around it, as well as a small couch set against the right-hand wall. The floors were wooden, covered in a rug that looked surprisingly ornate but curled at the edges as if it had been rolled up for a long time. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen, separated from the living room by a countertop, with a sink and stove set against the far wall, and a back door next to the stove. More of the fading sunlight shone through a large but empty garden window above the sink. 

“It’s a little bare right now,” Aerith said, slightly apologetic. “We’ll bring you some more furniture later, if you want, and you’re welcome to decorate it however you like.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Lauriam said. “Truly. Thank you.”

“Your room’s over here!” Yuffie said, bounding to a small hallway to the left of the living room. “And the bathroom!”

The bedroom was small but neat, with a sturdy-looking bed against the far wall beneath a large window with curtains that matched those in the living room. Against the left hand wall was a desk, and a chest of drawers to the right. 

“Wow. Cozy,” Elrena said. Lauriam glanced at her, but her face was neutral, even if her tone was not. 

“There’s a shed in the backyard for you,” Yuffie said as she pulled the curtains back to show them the view. A shed and a number of other tools were visible, situated between the house and the garden wall. “It’s got all the stuff Aerith’s been using for the west gardens—seeds and everything!”

“You can find more supplies in the castle, too,” Aerith said. “We can go over any questions tomorrow. I’m sure you’re both tired.”

“A little, yes,” Lauriam said; it had been a very long day indeed. He and Elrena stowed their bags in his room, and went back out to the living room. The committee members were lingering by the front door. 

“We’ll get outta your hair,” Cid said. “Soup should keep for a bit if there’s leftovers. I’ll be at the workshop tomorrow, stop by whenever and I’ll make sure you get your manual for the ship.”

“Manual?” Elrena asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah, 'course! You gotta treat her right if you expect her to fly you all over the galaxy. C’mon, Yuffie. Night, y’all.”

“Night, everyone!” Yuffie waved goodbye, and followed Cid out the door. Leon held it open, waiting for Aerith.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning to show you around the town,” Aerith said. “We can talk to Cid after lunch. Ienzo said you wanted to leave as soon as possible, Elrena, but if you’d like to stay a little longer—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Elrena said. “I’ve got my own plans.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see you both tomorrow, then,” Aerith said, and with a smile from her and a nod from Leon, they left, shutting the door behind them.

At last, the house was quiet. Elrena and Lauriam looked at each other for a moment, and then Lauriam smirked, and Elrena rolled her eyes, and they both laughed quietly as they relaxed at last. 

“An interesting group,” Lauriam said.

“I guess. Way too helpful if you ask me. The food smells okay, though.”

It smelled more than okay, in fact, and tasted even better—it was only a simple vegetable soup, but they both ate quickly, not speaking much. Lauriam finished first, and went through the cabinets in the kitchen curiously while Elrena ate; an adequate selection of plates and cookware had been stowed away, and someone had supplied a small cupboard with a decent amount of food. 

Lauriam was rather stunned by this kindness. It was far more than he had anticipated, certainly, and he supposed he would have to thank the committe members again tomorrow, though he wasn’t sure he liked feeling as if he owed them for their troubles. Satisfied with his findings, he sat back down at the table just as Elrena set down her spoon. She caught his eye, and tilted her head.

“So,” she said.

“So,” he said, and smiled at her twitch of annoyance. 

“ _So_ , are you really going to stay here?” She looked around, green eyes flitting from one corner of the room to another. “It’s fine, I guess, but…really?”

“It’s not so different from where I lived in Corona,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “I don’t need much space.”

“Yeah, but…” She sighed, and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Look, are you seriously just going to let them poke around in your head? Let _Vexen_? He has to know we’re the reasons Axel roasted him to a crisp.”

“…I’m sure he does,” Lauriam said. “But I don’t have many options at the moment. Either I stay here and have them attempt to piece my memories back together, or I keep trying on my own. It hasn’t been very effective so far.”

Elrena’s skepticism faded, replaced by hesitant curiosity. “What _do_ you remember?”

“Strelitzia, first and foremost. And you. And a town…a little like this one, actually. I think there was a clock tower.” He closed his eyes, and a faint image of dozens of purple rooftops stretching towards high cliffs formed in his mind. “There were mountains past the town.”

“And the sea was nearby.” When Lauriam opened his eyes, Elrena was frowning down at the table. She glanced up at him, and back down. “I think.”

“Yes, I think so too.” He waited, and when she stayed silent, he quietly prompted, “Anything else?”

“…Your hair was shorter.”

He laughed. “That’s true. Yours was longer.”

“The bangs kept getting in my eyes. It was easier to just push them back.” She stared off to the side for a moment. “Strelitzia’s was really long.”

“Unreasonably long. She refused to cut it.”

“…Do you—? I mean, do you…know where she is? What happened to her?” She crossed her arms, holding them tightly against herself. “I remember you asked me to help you find her, and I remember looking for her…” She trailed off, her brow furrowed as if in pain. “I dunno. It’s all fuzzy. It hurts to think about it.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t know where she is. I’m fairly certain something terrible happened, and you and I and everyone else were separated, but beyond that…” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Everyone else?”

“There were others in the town, and I remember other friends, to a degree. Not their faces. Yet.”

“Ugh. You can’t seriously think we were friends with Demyx. Or Luxord, either. No way.”

“We have no way of knowing for certain until I recover more of my memories, or you yours. We really do need to find them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll look for them, I guess, but Xigbar? Seriously? What do they even want with that guy? He didn’t seem like he cared if any of them came back or not. All he ever talked about was that stupid box.”

“Zexion and the others were friends with him in their old lives, or so they’ve said. It’s unimportant. Demyx and Luxord may be useful to us in the future, at the very least, so it’s vital that we locate them.”

“And Strelitzia.” Her tone was suddenly and uncharacteristically serious, as was her expression. “That’s who we’re really concerned about, right? I’m not dumb.”

“Yes, she is my priority.”

“Mine too. If I run into the others, fine, but I’m looking for her first. Whatever happened to us, we got flung to different worlds. She could be anywhere, alone, and she might not remember anything either...”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But she was—is—stronger than she looks.” 

“Yeah.” Elrena hesitated, and then reached out and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on his arm. “I’ll find her. Promise. Wherever she is, I’ll find her and then we’ll come get you and we can get the hell out of here and figure out what happened. Together.” 

Lauriam gave her a small smile, and patted her hand. “Thank you.”

She smirked back, her usual attitude returning. “And if those weirdos start messing with your brain, or if you realize how totally _awful_ it is hanging out with them when you could be hanging out with _me_ …”

“I already know, believe me,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll join you as soon as I’m able.”

“You promise you’ll call me if you need me?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Good.” She leaned back in her chair, looking satisfied. “If any of them even think about trying something, they’ll regret it.”

“I’m not worried. Vexen has always been all bark, and Zexion seems determined to keep up that helpful new facade of his, so I don’t think I need to be concerned about him or Lexaeus. And they’ve readily admitted to having trouble with their former powers, so they have no advantage there, either. So long as they remain civil, I’ll do the same.” 

The pair stayed up talking for a long while, Lauriam going over every memory he had pieced together in the past few weeks. Elrena didn’t remember any more than he did, but it was nice, almost reassuring, to talk about the little they both recalled. It made the memories feel that much more real, knowing they were shared by someone he trusted. Eventually, they went to bed, the events of the day exhausting them at last.

  
\-----

Lauriam awoke early the next morning, when the pre-dawn light had just begun to filter in through the window above his bed. It took him a moment to remember where he was, blinking blearily around at the unfamiliar walls, until he saw his still-packed bag in the corner, and remembered everything that had happened the previous day. It was quiet, which felt strange; in Corona much of the town was awake before dawn, and he had already grown used to the sounds of his parents beginning their day on the floor below his room. Perhaps the garden wall muffled any sounds the townspeople might have made this early in the morning.

With a sigh, he sat up at the edge of the bed, and slowly raised his hands to shoulder height, just managing to hold back a wince. His injuries upon recompletion could have been much worse, he supposed, but the stiffness in his joints upon waking each morning was not something he enjoyed. Corona’s lack of easy access to resources like healing magic (the princess’s former abilities aside) had forced him to rely on more old-fashioned methods of recovery. His adoptive father’s medical knowledge had helped significantly, but it would be a few more weeks at least of careful movement and stretches before he would be back to his usual levels of activity.

He lifted his arms over his head, and did wince this time as the jagged scar in the center of his chest stretched uncomfortably. The injury had been healed by the time he awoke as a Nobody, but the scar had remained, bright white against his skin. Lauriam tried to ignore its presence, but the scar made itself known whenever he moved without thinking, an unpleasant reminder of his decision to give up his heart once more. He shut his eyes and focused on his heartbeat, thumping steadily along in his chest as he completed the stretching routine. 

When the stiffness had faded as much as it could, he rose to his feet and quickly dressed for the day, and then went out to the living room. Elrena was asleep on the couch, buried under a pile of extra blankets they had found in his closet and looking far more peaceful than he had ever seen her look while awake. The warmth of affection filled his chest, and he basked in the feeling for a moment. Having his heart back was complicated, at best, but feelings like this were...pleasant. With a slight smile, he left her to her sleep and went outside as quietly as he could.

The sun had not quite risen, but it was getting brighter out by the minute. A light mist drifted above the ground, condensing into droplets on Lauriam’s boots as he walked around to the back of the house. There was indeed a large shed built up against the stone wall, as well as bags of mulch and soil, heavy-looking stones, and a wheelbarrow. Not wanting to wake Elrena by rummaging around, he walked back around the house and set off down the path. If he was going to be working in this area, he wanted to familiarize himself with it as much as he could. 

The eastern garden was, he guessed, about an acre and a half of land. Most of it was flat earth, but the gate to the path stood at the top of a section of empty terraces. The few shrubs that had been planted lined either the path or the walls of the garden, but they were so young that it was difficult to tell what kinds they were. He climbed to the top of the terraced area and looked back contemplatively, trying to picture what the garden would look like when completed. 

There were more gardens on the other side of the grounds, Lauriam remembered, which were far fuller than this side. He turned and pushed the gate open, heading back to the central landing in front of the plaza. He glanced up at the castle as the first of the sun’s rays flashed in the highest windows. This close, it was obvious that while the structure itself was stable, parts of it had been recently patched. Unpainted areas of wall were visible in a few places, and a large construction crane stood dormant to its rear, invisible from the front of the castle. 

The creak of the landing gate shifted his attention forward. His mood instantly dropped at the sight of the person coming towards him down the path: Vexen, wearing a white lab-coat so long the edges nearly dragged through the dirt. Lauriam wondered if he thought it made him look more scholarly, or if he just wasn’t aware of how out of place he looked wearing it anywhere other than a lab. As their eyes met, Vexen grimaced, and though Lauriam felt quite the same, he kept his expression neutral as they came within hearing distance of each other.

“Hello,” Lauriam said, slowing to a halt. 

Vexen regarded him suspiciously. “What are you doing out here?”

Lauriam raised an eyebrow. “Taking a walk. What are _you_ doing out here?”

“I live here. I can go wherever I like.”

“At the moment, so can I.”

“Hmph.” Vexen crossed his arms. “And where is Larxene?”

“Elrena is still asleep. I wanted to take a look around on my own.”

“Is that _so_.” 

It was more of an accusation than a question, but Lauriam answered it anyway. “Yes, it is,” he replied blandly. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait.” Vexen shoved a hand in his coat pocket, and withdrew two of the devices Zexion had been so attached to—a gummiphone, he had called it. “Ienzo made these for you. He wanted you to know that all of our contact information is stored in them, in case either of you need to speak with us.” He did not sound as if he relished the idea of speaking to either of them in any capacity. 

Lauriam took the gummiphones and examined them, tilting the screen of one to examine the display. A few labeled icons were visible, and he was interested in going through them, but definitely uninterested in continuing this conversation any longer. “I see. I’ll pass that along. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish my walk.”

Vexen narrowed his eyes. “Don’t get comfortable. You are only here because we deemed it necessary. This world is not your home.”

“Oh, not to worry,” Lauriam said, his tone not quite as polite his smile. “I would never make that mistake.” 

He turned on his heel and went back down the path without another word, willing his irritation to stay hidden as long as it took to get back to the gate. It had been much easier to hide his emotions when they had been mere echoes. As he drew level with the gate, he glanced over his shoulder, but Vexen was no longer at the landing; Lauriam could just make out a white-coated figure stomping his way back up to the main doors of the castle. Lauriam shook his head and pushed the gate open, with a touch more force than necessary.

The walk back to the little house, at least, was long enough to calm him. By the time he reached the front door, he was only slightly annoyed, and content to avoid Vexen for the rest of the day if at all possible. As he went to open the door, he heard footsteps at the side of the house, and turned to see Elrena, still in her pajamas and looking rather harried.

“Hey!” She sped over and, to his surprise, grabbed him by the wrist. “Where’d you go?”

“I took a walk around the garden. You were still asleep, so I thought I’d let you rest.” He glanced her over, and realized she must have left the house in a hurry, because she was standing barefoot in the grass. “Were you worried?”

She blinked, and dropped his wrist. “No way,” she said as she turned to the door and yanked it open. “I was going to eat without you if you didn’t hurry up.

“I see. Well, I’m sorry,” he said with a slight smile as he followed her inside, “to have kept you from your breakfast.” 

“You should be.” 

They sat down to eat, and Lauriam told Elrena all about his encounter with Vexen, giving her plenty of time to interject and roll her eyes. By the time they finished up, he was feeling much better, and as Elrena went to change, Lauriam took a look at the gummiphones Zexion had made them. It was an interesting device; it could call anyone who had a similar phone, take photographs, hold notes, and there even seemed to be a number of games to play. He didn’t have much time to look through it, however, before a knock sounded from the front door. 

Aerith was waiting with a bright smile when he opened it. “Good morning!” she said. “I hope you slept well.”

“Well enough,” Lauriam said, letting her inside. “Just you today?”

“We’re finishing up the last section of the outer wall today, so everyone else is helping out there. We’ll probably run into them later.”

“That old guy wants to teach me about his ship, right?” Elrena came into the room tugging a blue jacket over her shoulders. “Cid, or whatever?”

“Yes, we’ll stop by and see him in a little while. I thought we could take a look at the western garden first,” Aerith said to Lauriam, “since you were so interested yesterday.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” he said. “I’d like to see what grows here.”

Their walk from the eastern garden to western one was fairly quick, and mercifully free of any unwanted encounters. The mist had cleared up completely, evaporated by the sun glowing cheerfully above the city walls. The entrance to the western garden was marked by a gate quite similar to the one guarding the eastern garden, but even before Aerith opened it, Lauriam’s eyes widened at the sight beyond.

Lauriam had never seen so many flowers in one place in all his life. The garden behind the florist shop in Corona was a decent size, but this area was far larger, a lovingly cultivated plot of land with blooms of all kinds. The stone path cut down through a set of terraced beds filled to the brim with blossoms, and more lined the path as it wound around and out of sight. He recognized quite a few: wisterias, peonies, lilacs, hydrangeas, even a few dogwood trees farther on, and that was just what was visible from the gate. There were others he didn’t recognize, perhaps natives of this world, and he found himself yearning to take a closer look. 

“What do you think?” Aerith asked. 

“It’s beautiful,” Lauriam said, with utter sincerity. “You’ve done an incredible job.”

Aerith smiled proudly, holding the gate open for them to pass through. “I’ve been working on this side for a while now,” she said, “and the others have helped too, but there’s only so much we can do with the rest of the city in the state it’s in. We’re intending to start work on the Outer Gardens soon too, so I’ll be spending a lot of time past the walls. I’ll do my best to check on this area as much as I can, but if you have the time, I wouldn’t mind another set of eyes to look over it.”

“I would be happy to. I’ll do my best to look after them.”

“Oh please,” Elrena said. She was looking out at the garden, hands on her hips. “This’ll be a cinch for you.”

“Well…”

Aerith shut the gate, and gave them a curious look. “Ienzo said you were good with flowers. I got the feeling he didn’t just mean that you liked to garden.”

“Ah,” Lauriam said, “well, not quite.” 

He looked around, and knelt down at the edge of the nearest bed. Some common rue grew along the perimeter of the bed, and while small yellow flowers had sprouted from most of the stems, those that grew closer to the path had fewer buds, perhaps from spending more time in the shade of the gate. 

He reached out a hand and held it just above a few bare stems, letting out a slow breath. As his hand passed over them, they shuddered slightly, and after a moment a couple of buds burst forth, petals falling slowly open. The flowers surrounding the new buds shifted in color from a pale greenish-yellow to a more golden hue, their stems more verdant than before.

Aerith gasped softly, and Lauriam looked up at her with a slight smile. To his left, Elrena shook her head. 

“Show off,” she said. “How much have you been practicing?”

“I’m afraid that’s the extent of my abilities, at the moment,” he said, withdrawing his hand. It was the truth; he had tried repeatedly to summon his scythe in Corona, and even his keyblade once or twice, though he hadn’t quite admitted to himself that he was doing the latter. His scythe had appeared only once, and only for a few moments, when he was feeling particularly grim about his situation. He’d been so surprised that he’d unceremoniously dropped it, and had been unable to make it reappear since. 

“I do intend to keep at it,” he said as he got to his feet. “I haven’t quite regained my usual level of skill.” Elrena met his eyes briefly, and he knew that she felt just as frustrated with her depowered state as he was. 

Aerith had knelt to examine the newly blooming flowers. “That’s…handy. No wonder Ienzo recommended you for the job.” She looked out at the rest of the garden.“I’ve been using some magic myself to speed things along, but I think you may still have your work cut out for you.” 

“I don’t mind,” Lauriam said. “I may be here for some time, and I would hate to be idle. This will give me something to do.”

Aerith walked them around the rest of the area,showing them a large section of fruit trees and rows of vegetables as well as many more flowers, but despite his interest, Lauriam’s mind kept drifting back to what was quickly starting to think of as _his_ section of the garden—the part he would apparently be given free reign over. That in itself was rather surprising; his former colleagues aside, the people of this world seemed almost eager to allow a total stranger to assist them in rebuilding an area of town that seemed quite important to its citizens. 

But perhaps it wasn’t so unusual. Aerith was cheerful as she answered their questions, but though the day had only just begun, there was already a tiredness about her eyes. Lauriam knew the world of Hollow Bastion had been lifted from the darkness not long before he and the others had ventured to Castle Oblivion, a little over a year and a half ago. From the sound of it, Aerith and the rest of the Restoration Committee had been working constantly to rebuild their world since then. Leaving a few acres of garden to someone else’s care might have been a great relief. 

Despite her tiredness, Aerith was a helpful and informative guide. After a tour of the garden so thorough the sun had climbed a good distance into the sky by the time it was done, she led them to a small grated doorway in the outer wall. They went up a flight of stone stairs and came out at the top of the wall, looking out over the garden and, beyond, streets full of matching red-roofed houses. Water flowed through an aqueduct right beside them as they walked, heading presumably for one of the fountains visible throughout town.

“You can walk on the outer walls, for the most part, but the quickest way around town are the paths surrounding the castle,” Aerith said as they crossed over the main gate in front of the central square. The gummiship was still parked in its center, and a large toolbox was visible next to it, but Cid was nowhere to be seen. “We had to put off finishing the northeast section of the outer wall so we could repair some of the machinery beneath, but it’ll be finished in the next few weeks.”

“Machinery?” Lauriam asked.

“The water that runs through the aqueducts in the walls and around town end up in a purification facility underground, and the water flow helps power the city,” she said as they walked through another neighborhood. “Some of it has been a little unstable, but we think we were able to finally repair it all, thankfully. The castle archives have blueprints, and Ienzo and the others gave us some helpful suggestions for improving the design.”

Lauriam saw Elrena roll her eyes, and had to hold back a small smile. “How kind of them,” he said.

In the northeastern section of town was a marketplace, the busiest area they’d seen so far. There were signs of recent construction here too: some of the roofs looked rather hastily patched, and spare lumber leaned against the stone walls in shadowy corners. Still, it reminded Lauriam quite a bit of the markeplace in Corona—crowded and rather cheery, with an air of industriousness. Aerith pointed out stores as they passed: food, clothing, houseware, tools. There was even a bar, which was apparently a new addition to the area, though it was closed until evening. (“Shame,” Elrena muttered.)

“The northern garden is just past here,” Aerith said, leading them down a flight of stone stairs. “That area's brand new. We had to do some rearranging while we rebuilt, so we decided to try to help the town live up to its name by adding more gardens.”

This garden was empty of flowers just as the eastern one had been, without even a shrub or sparse tree to fill the grassy space. It was quite flat, with little terracing, though there was another set of stairs that lead up to a raised area near the outer wall of the city. A sign hanging near the stairs proclaimed that it led towards the Fountain Court, whatever that might be. 

Opposite the raised area were more rocky cliffs dividing the garden from the castle moat. The large construction crane Lauriam had seen this morning was still sitting dormant, parked on the dirt path connecting the garden to the other areas around the castle. 

A loud grinding noise, the sound of metal on rock, echoed from across the empty garden. Elrena flinched, covering her ears.

“Ugh. More construction?” she asked.

“That section of the outer wall, I assume,” Lauriam suggested.

“Probably! Let’s go see,” Aerith said. She walked off, leaving the other two little choice but to follow her to the source of the noise. They climbed the far staircase to get a better view, the grinding growing louder until it set Lauriam’s teeth on edge. The higher they climbed, the more of the outer wall they could see; a large section of it was only half finished. The gap was big enough that the area surrounding the town was visible: a huge cavernous expanse, its crags and cliffs extending outward toward a range of mountains in the distance.

As they reached a landing halfway up the staircase, the grinding stopped, replaced by a low whistling noise like a strong gust of wind through trees. Suddenly, a handful of large square stones flew into the air near the outer wall, a dusty whirlwind surrounding them as they drifted towards the wall and settled into the gap. 

“Oh, they’ve gotten a lot done already,” Aerith said. There was a railing nearby, and she went over to it and looked down. 

Lauriam and Elrena joined her, and Elrena made another noise of annoyance, and Lauriam couldn’t blame her. A number of people were ranged below, but two in particular were instantly recognizable: Lexaeus and Xaldin, both in those unfamiliar blue uniforms, stood near a pile of stones. Lexaeus’s axe was resting on his shoulder, and Lauriam thought he knew who was responsible for the grinding noise.

“ _T_ _hey’ve_ got their powers back? Come on.” Elrena propped herself up on her elbows, scowling down at them. "Talk about unfair."

“They’ve had more time to get used to their...current situations,” Lauriam murmured. “Comparisons are pointless.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Elrena didn’t seem satisfied, but she went silent as Aerith called to some of the workers below, waving down to whoever she had recognized. Xaldin and Lexaeus looked up at the sound, and even from this distance, Lauriam could tell neither were pleased at the sight of them. 

Elrena stiffened beside him, but didn’t turn away. Instead she leaned her head on her hand as if bored, though Lauriam could tell from the set of her shoulders that she wasn’t nearly as at ease as she pretended. He didn’t bother to turn away either; he had no intention of letting them think that his newly regained heart had rendered him easily intimidated.

Perhaps Aerith noticed the sudden tension, because she quickly took them back down the stairs and past the construction area, cutting around it via the path near the castle. “I didn’t see Cid down there, so he’s probably at Merlin’s house,” she said. 

Lauriam remembered the name from the previous night, but whoever this Merlin was, he was apparently quite the eccentric. The building Aerith led them to was shaped like a normal house, but the roof looked like a huge pointed hat, with a couple umbrellas sticking out of it, spinning steadily in the breeze. An actual pointed hat sat crookedly at the top of the structure. 

“Let me guess. This Merlin guy’s a wizard?” Elrena asked flatly, frowning up at the roof.

“He is!" Aerith answered with a laugh. "He has a tendency to wander off, though, so we probably won’t see him today. Let’s go inside.”

The inside was just as strange as the outside. Stacks of books and strange contraptions littered the floor and shelves. Across from the door, a number of computer screens were glowing and flashing. Cid sat in front of the main screen, hunched over a keyboard, his fingers tapping loudly across the keys. He glanced over his shoulder as they shut the door behind them.

“‘Bout time y’all showed up. Gimme a sec.” He jerked his head to his left. “Take a seat wherever.”

There wasn’t much place to sit, save a large table covered in books in the left half of the room. Lauriam helped Aerith move a few stacks, but a moment later Cid slammed a heavy and rather clumsily bound collection of papers onto the table. 

“All right!” he exclaimed, “here we are. Got yerself a manual, and here—” He went to a corner and unearthed a few large rolls of paper, laying them next to the manual. “These are the ship schematics.” 

He unfurled one of the rolls and spread it out on the table. It was indeed a diagram of the ship from three different angles, with various annotations and labels. Next to each note was a hand-written number. At the top of the diagram was scrawled SHERA LV. 1 in large letters.

“We’ll go over these first,” Cid said. “We got lunch goin’, if y’all are hungry.”

Lunch was a simple stew, still steaming in a pot hanging in a small fireplace. Lauriam wondered if Cid was capable of cooking anything that wasn’t some form of vegetables in boiled liquid, but didn’t complain—it was, once again, surprisingly satisfying. While they ate, Cid went over the diagrams thoroughly, pointing out each part of the ship and explaining it in turn. Elrena spent much of the lesson frowning, but it seemed to be more out of concentration than irritation. 

“Each of the numbers on the diagram corresponds to a page in the manual. This here,” Cid said, tapping the cover of the manual, “is your lifeline. Anything goes wrong, you look at this first.” 

“Didn’t you build the thing? Why would something go wrong?” Elrena asked, still peering down at one of the diagrams.

“You’re gonna be flyin’ around all over space! My Shera’s a damn good ship, but she ain’t indestructible. You gotta be prepared for emergencies. Now, grab the manual and come with me.”

“Come where?”

“To the ship, of course! We’re gonna have you do a few test flights before you get going. I ain’t about to send you off all alone without makin’ sure you won’t crash into a meteor first thing.” 

The streets of the surrounding neighborhood were fairly empty as they walked from Merlin’s house to the square. Aerith waved to the few people they did encounter, greeting each by name; Cid occasionally nodded to those who greeted him but spent most of the time chattering to Elrena about flying. Lauriam received a few curious looks, but a handful of smiles, too. 

When they reached the square, Cid immediately made a beeline for the ship. Elrena glanced back at Lauriam, who smiled slightly.

“Worried?” he asked.

“Me? Hmph. No way.” She crossed her arms, and looked back at the ship. “If Lexaeus and that loser kid can fly one of these, I definitely can. Just watch.”

She followed Cid to the ship and went inside, her boots thumping on the metal ramp. After a moment, Cid’s head popped out of the hatch. 

“I’m gonna put her through a few exercises, so it might take a while. Sit and wait or wander off, I don’t care.” With that, he pulled the hatch shut, and the ramp slid back into the ship.

Aerith, standing nearby, laughed quietly at the bemusement in Lauriam’s face. “He can be a little single-minded, sometimes,” she said. “But they really might be at it for most of the afternoon. We could go back to the market, if there was anything you wanted.”

“It’s fine,” Lauriam said. “The supplies you all left for me are more than enough. Thank you again for your help.”

“Not at all! Thank _you_ for agreeing to look after the gardens. But are you sure you don’t need anything else?

“No,” he said, “I don’t think I do. Besides,” he said, as the ship’s engine revved suddenly into life, “I think she would be a little unhappy if I didn’t watch her give this a try.” 

There were a couple of benches by the nearest building; he took a seat as the engine revved louder. Lauriam couldn’t quite see into the cockpit, but the slowness with which the ship lifted into the air made him think it was Elrena at the helm. He smiled again—of course she wouldn’t even wait to be shown what to do—and shielded his eyes with a hand at the sudden wind whipping up from the engine. Incrementally, the ship drifted higher and higher, and then without warning it rocketed off, zooming past the outer wall and out in the direction of the far-off mountains.

Aerith, who had come to stand next to Lauriam, folded her hands behind her back with a smile of her own, watching the ship shrink into the distance. “She’s a natural.”

“She works very hard when she has something to prove.” He glanced up at her. “There’s no need for you to stay, if there are other things that need your attention. You’ve been more than helpful.”

“Well, I did want to check in with Reeve about the plans for the Outer Garden…” She considered for a moment, and then nodded to herself. “I’ll see you later, then. I know Elrena wanted to leave as soon as she could, so if I don’t get a chance to say goodbye, please tell her it was nice to meet her.”

“I will, thank you. Go on.”

With a wave, Aerith left him, heading back the way they had come. Lauriam leaned back against the wall of the building, scanning the sky for the gummiship. It had shrunk to nearly a pinprick in the distance, dark against the purplish sky. 

It really was nice to take a break, after walking so far. He hadn’t moved around this much in weeks, and his muscles were starting to ache from overuse. He stretched his legs, wincing slightly, and looked out over the square with a sigh. Flowers lined the edges of the area, and rested in window boxes on most of the houses, too, swaying in the light breeze. 

The red-roofed houses suddenly shifted in his vision, flashing to purple, and for a single second he could have sworn a large fountain rested at the center of the square. A handful of blurry silhouettes surrounded it, some sitting at the fountain’s edge while others moved past; they wavered enough to make his eyes water, and then they were gone, the square empty once more. 

Lauriam reached up and quickly wiped his eyes before shutting them tight, trying to hold the image in his head. That fountain was part of the town he couldn’t quite remember, the one he had lived in so long ago. Details solidified momentarily—that clocktower again, looming in the background, and star-patterned pavement—before sliding away like the unsteady memory of a dream. He made a frustrated noise, and leaned his head against the wall behind him. If he could just remember a little more…

He stayed on the bench, willing himself to remember, until he heard the hum of the ship engine approaching from a distance. When he at last opened his eyes, the sun had dropped much farther in the sky than he would have expected, and his shoulders and legs felt quite stiff. He rose to his feet quickly, stretching his limbs a little as the ship hovered over the wall and lowered back to the ground. 

The landing was steady, with only a slight jostling, and when the hatch door opened back up, Elrena came out looking quite pleased with herself. Cid followed, wearing a similar grin.

“How did it go?” Lauriam asked.

“She’s got the basics down. Bit too eager to go zippin’ off, but…” Cid shrugged. “Can’t really blame her.”

“You told me to go as fast as I was comfortable with,” Elrena said breezily. “It’s not like it was hard.”

“Hey now,” Cid said, “don’t get too cocky. You still need to be careful—”

“Yeah, okay,” Elrena interrupted. “I got it already. Come on,” she said to Lauriam. “I wanna get my stuff and get out of here before the sun goes down.”

Lauriam didn’t bother asking if she was sure about leaving; it was obvious from how she held herself that she didn’t want to stay in this world any longer than absolutely necessary. He had hoped she would at least stay for dinner, but the eagerness with which she made for the gate indicated that she had little inclination to wait even that long. They made their way back to the little house in the empty eastern garden, and Elrena quickly gathered up her things. 

“Aerith told me to tell you it was a pleasure to meet you,” Lauriam told her as she shoved her night clothes into her bag.

“She would,” Elrena said with a scoff, but then she shrugged. “It _was_ actually pretty nice of her to show us around. She seems...okay. Tell her I said bye.” She snapped the bag shut. “As for those weirdos in the castle, tell them they can—”

“I’ll tell them you said goodbye, too.”

“Ugh, _fine._ Ruin my fun.”

Lauriam had made the decision to stay himself, and was determined to do so until his memories were restored, but now, as he watched Elrena hitch her bag over her shoulder and look at him expectantly, he couldn’t help the creeping regret that had begun to weigh heavily in his chest. Despite this, he only smiled, and together they left the house again and headed back for the central plaza. 

The hatch of the ship was still hanging open when they reached the square. As they crossed the bridge from the gate, Cid came out and tromped down the ramp, dusting his hands off. 

“She’s all ready to go,” he called with a wave. “Just did the last walk-around. Shouldn’t give ya any trouble.”

“She better not,” Elrena murmured. Louder, she said, oozing faux-politeness, “Great, thanks.”

Cid didn’t seem to notice her tone, or perhaps he’d already gotten used to her while they were out practicing. “Make sure you keep an eye out for Heartless ships,” he said, picking up his toolbox. “They’re still out causin’ trouble. But my girl here will take care of ya.” He patted the hull of the ship fondly, but then he put his hand on hip and nearly glared at Elrena. “ _If_ you take care of her. Treat her right, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. I’m not gonna crash her or anything,” Elrena said, and Lauriam could tell it took everything in her to not roll her eyes as she said it. 

“You better not. You got one of those phone gizmos the guys at the castle were workin’ on, right? Any problems, gimme a call, and whenever she needs repairing, just come back home and I’ll look her over.” 

“Alright, already.” Elrena turned to walk towards the ship, but after a moment, she turned back, not quite making eye contact with Cid. “Uh—thanks, I guess.”

Cid’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, yer welcome. Safe flight and all that. See ya, little lady.” 

He turned on his heel before Elrena could do more than make a noise of outrage as his words registered. She looked at Lauriam, who did his utmost to hold back a smile, knowing she would only get angrier, and then after Cid, who was already walking quickly away. 

“I’ve got a name, old man!” she yelled after him. Cid only waved his free hand over his shoulder, and Lauriam could’ve sworn he heard a faint chuckle as he entered the nearest neighborhood. Elrena scoffed and stomped towards the ship.

Lauriam followed, still attempting not to smile but knowing he was losing the battle. Elrena flung her bag into the hatch, much harder than she needed to, and spun to face him, planting a fist on either hip.

“I am _so_ over this world,” she said. “Everyone here is just so helpful and friendly and _annoying_.”

“A good thing you’re leaving, then.”

“No kidding. Sheesh.” She shook her head, but then stopped suddenly, and looked almost guilty. “I mean…”

“No need,” he said, lifting a hand to stop her. “I made my choice.”

Elrena met his eyes, and looked at him for a long moment. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“...I truly would prefer it. But we need to take advantage of whatever assistance we can find. This world is tolerable enough. I’ll survive.”

She nodded, though she was still frowning. “Let me know what happens, okay? I’ll call you with that phone thing whenever I find something.” She hesitated, looking as if she wanted to say more, but wasn’t quite sure what. “I...I guess I should go.”

She dropped her gaze, and Lauriam couldn’t quite place the emotion in her expression—sadness? Uncertainty?—but then, without warning, she reached out and grabbed him in a one-armed hug. It was so quick he barely had the chance to register it was happening before she let him go and took a step back, not quite meeting his eyes as her cheeks reddened.

That comfortable affection was warming his chest again, but Lauriam knew better than to comment on her actions, and merely smiled. “I’ll see you soon, Elrena.”

“Yeah. See you, Lauriam.”

She quickly turned and went into the ship, pulling the hatch down after her. As the ramp pulled back into the ship, Lauriam could just see her through the glass of the cockpit, settling down in front of the console. She looked up, and after a moment, she smirked, her usual self once more, before flapping a hand at him to back away.

Lauriam moved to the gate that lead back up to the castle, but turned to watch the ship as it lifted up into the sky, much more confidently than it had only hours before, and far higher. He waited until he couldn’t see it at all before turning, opening the gate, and starting up the stairs. 

The walk back to the little house felt longer with no one to accompany him. As he went inside and shut the door, the light of the setting sun shone into the front room as it had the evening before, but now there was nothing to distract him from how empty it really was, despite the others’ best efforts. He took a breath as he looked at the silent room, let it out slowly, and set about making some dinner. 

Eating alone was also less pleasant than eating with company. It was surprising, really, how used to being with others he had grown in only a few weeks; sharing meals with his parents had quickly become routine for him. With no one to talk to, somehow food seemed less appealing. He finished eating quickly, and shook his head as he brought his dishes to the sink. There was no point dwelling on his solitude. His choice was made, and there was nothing to be done for it. 

A quiet knock on the door drew him from contemplation. He turned with a frown, leaving his dishes in the sink. Perhaps one of the Committee members had returned to tell him something else about the town. He went to the door, and pulled it open. As soon as he saw who it was, however, he wished that he hadn’t. 

“Good evening, Lauriam.” Zexion smiled at him politely over what Lauriam thought, for a single tense moment, was his Lexicon, but he quickly realized it was actually a handful of much smaller books stacked together. Zexion had changed into an outfit identical to the one Vexen had been wearing that morning, down to the pristine white lab-coat. It looked just as out of place on him as it had on Vexen. 

“...Good evening,” Lauriam said, deliberately remaining in the doorway.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your dinner. I had intended to come earlier, but I’m afraid I was a little busy this afternoon. I did want to drop these off, however,” Zexion said, shifting the books a little in his arms. “May I come in for a moment?”

Lauriam considered refusing, but Zexion _had_ been the only person to actually seem interested in assisting him, though Lauriam was still not sure it was for entirely altruistic purposes. He nodded, and stepped aside, letting Zexion pass. 

As Lauriam shut the door, Zexion looked around appraisingly, setting the stack of books on the table. “I’m impressed with how much the Committee was able to do with so little notice,” he said. “I hope this house is satisfactory to you. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

“I’m fine,” Lauriam said. “What are those?”

“Ah, yes. Two of them are books related to the flora of this world,” he said, laying two of them to one side. “I thought you might be interested in taking a look. One is a record of weather patterns in the years before the world fell. The seasons seems to be about the same, according to the Committee, so it may be helpful for you to look through. The other is just a book I’ve enjoyed before, because, well...I thought it might help with any boredom, when you aren’t working.”

Zexion seemed almost sheepish as he pointed to this last book, but he smiled again at Lauriam, who found himself decidedly thrown off. Making deals that would benefit both of them was one thing, but bringing Lauriam books merely because he thought he might get bored? Such thoughtfulness was not something he was used to in most people, and from Zexion it was utterly alien.

“I...see,” Lauriam said slowly.” Thank you.”

“Not at all. I had hoped to see Elrena off, but we saw the ship take off from the castle. I’m sure she was in a hurry to get going.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, regardless, we do appreciate her agreeing to look for Demyx and Braig. I know it wasn’t something she was very enthusiastic about, but Demyx in particular has been worrying all of us—there’s really no telling where he might have ended up. I’m afraid none of us were inclined to ask him where he was from, and Xemnas is the one who found him as a Nobody, so we really have little to go on.”

“What _is_ your concern with Demyx?” Lauriam asked. “I don’t recall you ever making any particular effort to speak with him in the Organization.”

“...You aren’t wrong,” Zexion said, looking down. “He was of little interest to me then. But he was quite helpful to us when it came to retrieving Even’s replicas for Roxas and Namine, so we would really like to thank him if we can.”

Lauriam’s eyes widened. _That_ was not what he had expected. “He assisted with their vessels?” 

“Oh—of course, you wouldn’t know. Even and Isa were quite secretive with their plan. Yes, he delivered one of Even’s vessels to us so we could assist Roxas, and later was able to retrieve one for Namine, as well.”

“Wait, one moment,” Lauriam said. “What plan are you talking about? Isa—do you mean Saix?”

“Yes, that’s his true name. It’s rather a long story, but suffice to say that when he rejoined the real Organization, Isa was no longer willing to go along with Xehanort’s plans. I believe he and Roxas had some bad blood between them—Dilan told us a little, apparently they didn’t get along well at all in the year we missed—but he decided to do what he could to assist the Guardians, and ensure Roxas and Namine would be able to return. He couldn’t maneuver on his own, however, as a chosen vessel, so he enlisted Even’s help.”

Lauriam was silent as he attempted to process Zexion’s words. It was one thing to hear that Demyx had somehow procured vessels from Vexen’s supply; it was quite another to be told that Vexen had parted with them _willingly,_ under direction from Saix, of all people. Demyx had seemed as apathetic as ever, and neither Vexen nor Saix had appeared to be any less enthusiastic in their willingness to carry out Xemnas’s commands as they had been before Castle Oblivion.

“His help?” Lauriam repeated. “Are you saying he provided their vessels knowingly?”

“Yes, of course. Apparently, he was quite eager to assist, after Isa proposed his plan.”

“...You seem very confident.”

“Shouldn’t I be? Isa told me that himself. Is he not the one who invited Even back into the Organization?”

That much, at least, Lauriam knew to be true. Still, the rest of it sounded so _wrong._ Vexen, providing vessels for disappeared children out of...what, the goodness of his heart? The very idea was laughable. “He is,” Lauriam admitted, “but I’m not sure I share your assessment of Vexen’s involvement in this.”

Zexion tilted his head. “I’m not sure you need to. Even,” he said, placing particular emphasis on the name, “has explained himself to us, and both Demyx and Isa’s stories were the same as his. Personally, I believe the results of his actions speak for themselves.”

“Do they? He seemed quite pleased to provide Xehanort with as many replicas as he needed. Are you so certain that he wasn’t merely trying to play both sides, in order to save himself?”

“I am,” Zexion said serenely. “I’ve known him for a very long time. We have not always gotten along, nor do we now, but I do believe he sincerely wanted to do good.”

It took every last ounce of thinning patience within Lauriam to not laugh in Zexion’s face. His tiredness and frustration was getting to him at last, and he found he rather liked the feeling, the irritation calcifying slowly into malice. But it wouldn’t do to give in to anger, not now. He narrowed his eyes, surveying Zexion for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice held an edge he could not quite blunt.

“You can take off that mask now.”

Zexion frowned slightly, perplexed. “Excuse me?”

“That mask you’re wearing,” Lauriam said. “You can remove it. I would prefer to speak to Zexion now, if it’s all the same to you.” 

They stood in silence, both motionless, neither looking away. Zexion’s expression was unreadable, but the deliberate way he held himself told Lauriam he was not nearly so calm as he appeared. 

“...I see,” Zexion said at last. “Well, I’m afraid Ienzo is all you’re going to get.” 

“Is that so? I’m sorry to hear it. At least Zexion wasn’t so naive.”

Perhaps it was because the sunlight was nearly gone, the last few rays shining weakly through the curtains, but the room felt suddenly a touch colder. For a moment, Lauriam thought Zexion might attack him—he almost hoped for it, truth be told—but Zexion only sighed quietly, and spoke again.

“May I take a seat? If we’re going to talk, I would prefer to do it comfortably, and I believe you've had a rather long day.”

Lauriam let out a long, slow breath, and then nodded, and took a seat. Zexion took one across from him, and folded his hands on the table. 

“Please let me be clear,” he said. “I don’t have any particular wish to fight with you, Lauriam. I really would like to assist you. The others feel the same.”

“That is not the impression I’ve been given.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sure Vexen spoke to you about his errand this morning.”

“He did. If he was rude, I apologize. I should have dropped the gummiphones off myself. But his behavior and personal opinions do not reflect my own.”

“And what are your personal opinions of me?”

Zexion didn’t answer immediately. He sighed again, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Please,” Lauriam said. “I’m curious.”

“...At the moment, I’m rather frustrated that you seem to want us to give you the benefit of the doubt, but refuse to do the same with us. I don’t have any personal grudge against you.”

“No?”

“No,” Zexion repeated. “The events of Castle Oblivion were…unfortunate. I believe we all share in the blame. I also recognize why you and Elrena were so intent on your own goals there, and why you distrusted the rest of us. As it stands, Xemnas intended harm for everyone in the Organization, so your plan to overthrow him was a sympathetic one, in hindsight. I do, however, find it interesting that you still distrust us, considering that besides Even, none of us decided to rejoin Xemnas in the true Organization.”

“Oh, I see. And you think that somehow makes you better than those of us who did?”

“Not at all. I’m sure you had your reasons for joining. I only mean that, as we disassociated ourselves from Xemnas, I don’t see any reason for conflict between us.”

“And had they approached you, I’m sure you would have refused,” Lauriam said, voice full of false sympathy. 

Zexion looked down at his hands. “...As I said, I’m sure you had your reasons for joining. I don’t need to know what they are. As for myself, I’m genuinely unsure what I would have done, had I been approached. I most likely would have chosen to join, if only so I could be better positioned to maneuver against Xemnas and Xehanort, as Isa and Even did.” His tone was almost contemplative, a slight frown on his face. “I wish I could say I would have refused, but somehow, I don’t think that would have been tolerated, and I don’t believe I would have given up my existence so easily, even at the cost of my heart.”

“...On that, at least, we can find common ground.” Lauriam did not like thinking of his first recompletion—that memory was one of only pain and desperation, two emotions he was not eager to revisit. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Zexion said with a nod, and Lauriam hated the understanding in his voice. “As for Even, you can believe whatever you like of him. Your personal feelings toward each other are, frankly, immaterial to the matters at hand. But I do ask that you recognize that you are here because I was able to convince Even and the others that assisting you was helpful for all of us in the long run, and that it was the right thing to do."

“Ah, was that a concern of yours?”

“Yes, it was.” Zexion sighed, unfolding his hands at last. “You can dislike us as much as you think we deserve, Lauriam, but I do request that you be civil. And not only with me.”

“I don’t think I need to be reminded about civility.”

“I will speak with Even. I’ll also make certain that he and everyone else uses your proper name. In return, I would appreciate it if you would use our preferred names.

“...Very well. Ienzo.” 

“Thank you. It’s the least we can do for each other, I think.”

With that, Zexion— _Ienzo_ rose from his seat. From his expression, he seemed to think the conversation had reached its end. Part of Lauriam wanted to throw another barb, to goad him into showing some hint of the calculating and cold persona he remembered, but his exhaustion overpowered his anger at last. He pushed himself to his feet and nodded at Ienzo, who nodded back, looking satisfied.

“It will take a couple of days to finish setting up for you,” Ienzo said. “But we will work as fast as we can. I’ll let you know when you can expect to report to the lab.”

“That’s fine,” Lauriam said, not bothering to hide the tiredness in his voice.

“I’ll be going, then. Please do take a look at the books. I hope they’re helpful. Good night, Lauriam."

Ienzo left the house, leaving it silent once more. Lauriam dropped back into his chair, rubbing at his face. His head was beginning to hurt. He dimly wondered if the emotions he felt now were the ones he would grow used to in the coming weeks—irritation, suspicion, uncertainty, exhaustion. It was not a pleasant notion.

But if it meant he could recover his memories, he would endure whatever he must.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	3. H. helix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. I know it's been a while--birth is a curse and existence is a prison, but this chapter is done, and I hope you like it anyway!

The next few days passed quickly as Lauriam acclimated himself to his new surroundings. There was, Aerith assured him, no real rush in the replanting of the eastern garden, but Lauriam began planning out what he wanted to do with the space the morning after Elrena left. It was either work, or dwell on his situation, and he had never been one to sit around feeling sorry for himself. 

The books Ienzo had left behind were, in fact, quite helpful. The record of weather patterns went back for nearly two centuries, noting average temperatures and rainfall—it seemed even the winter was quite mild in this world, though the autumn was rainier than he was used to. A short hand-written note stuck into the front of the book politely informed Lauriam that it was currently mid-June. This was interesting; it had been the beginning of May in Corona. Perhaps time ran at a different rate in that world compared to Radiant Garden.

The two volume encyclopedia of all plant life that could be found in the gardens—before the world had fallen, of course—was also useful. He was familiar with many of the flowers and plants detailed in its pages, though some went by different names or seemed to be different varieties than the ones he was accustomed to. There were a few he had never seen before, and these interested him most. It wasn’t often he came across a plant he didn’t know. He made note of every single one, intending to plant them if at all possible. 

He’d been worried he would need to go up to the castle for seeds—he was in no hurry to interact with Even or the others any more than necessary—but the shed behind the little house seemed to hold nearly everything he would need, from tools to aprons that matched the blue and white uniforms Aeleus and Dilan now wore, and in the back of the shed stood a large freezer chest full of small, neatly labeled packages of dried seeds. There was a planting schedule, too, and after noting which would need to be planted in the next few weeks, he spent his second full day in Radiant Garden walking back and forth through the empty eastern plot, scribbling notes and ideas for how to utilize every inch of space.

Aerith came to visit in the afternoon for the first few days, sometimes bringing another committee member along. She usually stayed long enough to discuss Lauriam’s ideas, but she seemed perfectly content to let him do as he liked. 

“You can do whatever you want with the layout,” she said on his second afternoon as they took a break, watching Yuffie use an empty sack from the shed as target practice. “It doesn’t need to be too formal. The western garden got a little out of hand--we were trying to test out as many seeds as possible--but most of us like the way it turned out. It has _spirit_ , don’t you think?” 

“I know what you mean,” Lauriam replied. He agreed with her assessment; the western plot was not quite wild, but informal enough that it was obvious that the excitement of replanting had taken precedence over any kind of strict order, unlike some of the other flowering areas in town. It practically radiated the love with which it had been created, and while Lauriam tended naturally towards more orderly design, he admired the joyfulness of the western garden. He hoped he may be able to create something comparable, with time.

The Committee members, unfortunately, were not Lauriam’s only visitors. Ienzo came to chat a couple of times, inquiring about the books he had left (Lauriam had laid the last one, a book of myths and legends, to the side), and to let him know that they would be ready for him to visit the lab in a couple days’ time. Aeleus accompanied him, saying very little. These were quick visits, at least, and Ienzo seemed sincere in his attempts at, if not friendliness, then at least cordiality. 

They certainly weren’t as bothersome as Dilan, who didn’t visit so much as suspiciously observe Lauriam from afar whenever they happened to be in the same vicinity. On his third day in Radiant Garden, Lauriam was marking out a flower-bed beneath the terraces by the garden gate when footfalls made him glance up. Dilan was approaching from the direction of the castle, apparently on patrol, when he caught sight of Lauriam down below. He slowed, surveying him for a moment, and then he stopped and pushed at the gate, holding it open with one hand while gripping his ever-present lance in the other. 

With a quiet sigh, Lauriam got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees. “Did you need something?”

Dilan didn’t answer. He only continued to watch Lauriam, gaze severe, as he adjusted his hold on the lance. The movement was apparently casual, but Lauriam got the impression that Dilan wanted him to notice that he was armed and Lauriam was not. 

Lauriam raised an eyebrow. “I have a job to do,” he said.

Dilan finally spoke, his tone quiet but sharp. “As do I.”

“And that would entail watching me clear a flowerbed?” 

“My duty is to guard this world,” Dilan said. “From all threats.”

“I see. Interesting that you’re standing around in an empty garden, then.”

“Nearly empty.” 

Neither spoke nor moved for a moment, and then Lauriam lifted his hand to the side as nonchalantly as he could manage, focusing inwardly. He closed his fist, and his fingers wrapped around cold metal as his scythe materialized in a small flurry of petals. Lauriam felt the weight of his weapon and smiled slightly in satisfaction. He hadn’t been certain that would work. 

At the sight of the scythe, Dilan immediately tensed, but before he could do more than shift into a more defensive stance, Lauriam moved. In one fluid motion, he swung the blade down and in an arc around his feet, the sharp inner edge cutting easily through the patches of grass still present in the marked-off bed.

“Forgive me,” Lauriam said calmly, lifting his eyes to meet Dilan’s. “I left the plain one in the shed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to finish clearing this bed. You may find the threats you’re guarding against in some other area of town.” 

Dilan stared at him, a grimace edging over his usually stoic face, and then he turned on his heel and exited the garden, letting the gate clang shut behind him. Lauriam watched him go, and then looked down at the scythe still in his hand. He smiled as he swung it back up experimentally, then from one side to the other. It felt just as he remembered. 

“Thank you for not letting me look like a fool,” he murmured as he dismissed it. “I’m glad I haven’t lost you for good.” 

As for the last of the apprentices, Lauriam saw no sign of Even after he had delivered the gummiphones on that first day, except for a single possible glimpse on the third night. Really, it was more like the fourth morning; Lauriam awoke from a dream full of blurred faces speaking with voices too muffled to understand, and had been so restless afterwards that he had to take a walk around the whole of the garden in the dark to calm down enough to sleep again. As he reached the gate, intending to turn and walk back to the little house, he glanced up at the castle to see a lone window aglow in its eastern wing. Lauriam thought he had a suspicion as to who might be awake at such a strange hour, and shook his head as he turned from the gate. Ruining his newly-reformed human body by working it to death was an incredibly Even thing to do. 

He received no visitors save Aerith on the fourth day, and none at all on the fifth, which was just fine with him. There was plenty of space to be marked out, and he was able to fill each day enough that by the time dinner rolled around he had just enough energy after eating to send a few messages to Elrena before falling asleep. She’d begun her search back in Arendelle, as she hadn’t spent much time in town, and wanted to make certain she hadn’t missed any sign of their missing friends in her desire for solitude. Neither expected much from that world, but both agreed it was better to be certain. 

On the evening of the fifth day, just as he finished dinner, he received a text message from Ienzo on his gummiphone. _We should be ready for you tomorrow, if you’re available._ Lauriam shook his head--of course he was available, why else was he here?--but quickly responded, agreeing to allow Aeleus to escort him to the lab after lunch. His hands shook only a little as he sent the message, and then another to Elrena to let her know. Her response-- _About time. Tell me how it goes.--_ was so carefully casual that Lauriam knew she was just as apprehensive as he was. 

He managed to sleep through the night, though his dreams of purple rooftops in misty morning light, the huge shadow of a clocktower looming above them, did not provide much rest. It didn’t seem to matter much; he was filled with anxious energy as soon as he opened his eyes, moving from one task to another with far less care than normal, trying to fill his morning as much as possible to avoid staring at the clock in his living room or the little timepiece on his phone. He forced himself to eat lunch, but barely tasted it as he glanced repeatedly towards his front door.

A short sharp knock sounded as he put his dishes away. Lauriam went quickly to the door, but was surprised to find a tall but far sharper figure than he expected waiting behind it. Even, still in that same white lab coat he’d been wearing at their last encounter days before, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking distinctly unhappy to be on Lauriam’s doorstep.

“Oh,” Lauriam said. “It’s you.”

Even raised an eyebrow. “How observant. Is that all you have to say?”

“I was told Aeleus would be coming.”

“He was supposed to, yes,” Even said, with the air of explaining something simple to a small child, “but he had to attend to his other duties. We can’t all schedule our lives around you. ”

“And yet, here you are.” 

Even narrowed his eyes, and looked like he was trying very hard not to simply turn around and storm away. “Are you coming, or not? I could just leave you here, you know. Good luck finding the lab on your own.”

“I’m coming,” Lauriam said quickly, and he stepped out, shutting the door behind him. The pinched look on Even’s face said that he wished Lauriam would refuse to go with him, or better yet leave the world entirely, but he turned without another word and headed in the direction of the castle, Lauriam following.

They walked through the garden without speaking. Even seemed determined to interact as little as possible, his pace just a little too fast for them to walk side by side. Lauriam would’ve been happy to let him have his way in that regard, but he was a little curious about the sudden switch. 

“What duty did Aeleus need to attend to, exactly?” he asked as they went out through the garden gate.

“Protecting the town, of course,” Even said over his shoulder. “Heartless were spotted near the market.”

“Heartless?” Lauriam had been keeping an eye out for Heartless out of habit, but had seen no sign of any in the last few days, nor of any Nobodies, for that matter. “A large group?"

“They didn’t say. He and Dilan will take care of it, along with the Committee members, I’m sure.”

“They’ll only reappear later, without a keyblade wielder.”

“And what would you suggest?” Even asked sharply. “That we allow them to roam the town? Or are you volunteering to take care of them yourself, as a self-proclaimed wielder?”

“Former wielder,” Lauriam said, refusing to rise to Even’s bait. “I only mean that it’s a temporary solution, at best.”

“Regardless, we cannot let them run amok,” Even said. “Destroying them, even temporarily, is our only option if we are to keep the people of this world safe.”

He emphasized this last word with such a decisive gesture that Lauriam didn’t respond. Hearing this man, of all people, talk about keeping people safe with such determination was incredibly strange--particularly since Lauriam was fairly certain Even had been at least partially responsible for the world’s fall in the first place, from what he had been able to glean during his time in the Organization. Even spoke no further either, and they made their way up to the castle entrance in silence.

Lauriam had expected to go in through the front door, but once they reached the towering double doors, Even turned right, down a small stone path cut into the side of the castle. Parts of the path seemed as if they had been mended fairly recently, and a large boarded-up hole in the wall to their left drew Lauriam’s eye, but Even walked past it without even a glance. The path terminated in a small postern door, and Lauriam followed Even inside. 

A confusing collection of corridors lead deeper into the castle. There were no windows, and the knowledge that the weight of the rest of the castle rested above him gave Lauriam a claustrophobic feeling that reminded him of being in the basements of Castle Oblivion. The walls were patched up here too, though piping and live wires peeked through some of the shoddier repair jobs. The halls themselves twisted and turned so much that Lauriam would have been hard-pressed to find the entrance again on his own, though Even seemed to be navigating them with hardly a thought. 

“Your lab is down here?” Lauriam asked.

“Of course it is. Where else would I be taking you?”

“It just seems strange to keep it somewhere so hidden.”

“The nature of our previous work was very sensitive. It was safer to keep it out of reach of the townspeople, and besides, the basement--” 

Even broke off suddenly, and his hands twitched into fists beneath the long sleeves of his coat. “It’s really no concern of yours,” he said shortly, and started walking faster, as if eager to get away from the topic. 

Lauriam let the subject drop, in no mood to argue with someone who would be assisting him with his memories in a very short while, but his curiosity only grew as they finally reached a doorway that led to a new room. It might have been an office at some point, but now looked closer to a storage area: a large desk sat in the center, covered in books and boxes with hastily scrawled labels. More boxes and notebooks and folders were stacked on the bookshelves that lined the walls and even on the floor, some of the piles towering close to the ceiling. Behind the desk, faded scribbles were visible on the wall, with what appeared to be a painting beneath it, though only the back of the frame was visible. 

“This way.” Even crossed the room to yet another passage, this one doorless, but mercifully short. After a turn to the right, they stepped out onto a glass walkway, and while Lauriam wasn’t particularly afraid of heights, the long drop to the floor below made his stomach tighten uneasily. That was not nearly so disconcerting as the room beyond the walkway, however: a huge, cavernous chamber stretched for dozens of yards, the walls lined with what looked like large jars of some sort. A bright light shone from the far end of the chamber, but it was mostly lit by artificial neon.

The chamber, as curious as it was, was not their destination. The walkway led to a much smaller room, though the enormous chamber was still visible through a window at the front of it. More artificial lights illuminated this room, so many they gave Lauriam a slight headache. There was a glowing circular structure set into the right-hand wall, with an uncomfortable looking-chair in front of it, and a computer opposite. A single chair and stacks of folders were grouped in the far corner. Ienzo was flipping through one such folder as they entered, though he looked up at their footsteps. 

“Hello, Lauriam,” he said. “Please take a seat, we can get started in a moment.” He laid the folder down on one of the piles, and went to the computer. Even edged around him and moved the folder to a different stack. Ienzo smiled slightly, but continued speaking to Lauriam. “How is your plan for the garden coming along?”

“Quite well,” Lauriam said. “I’d like to start planting this week--tomorrow, if possible.”He sat on the chair’s edge, avoiding the chill metal as much as he could. “Aerith told me I can do what I like, but is there anyone I need to ask for approval before I begin? Your teacher, perhaps?”

“Oh, there’s no need. Master Ansem isn’t in charge of the city any longer,” Ienzo responded. “The Committee is overseeing everything, and if Aerith approves, I’m sure the rest of them do as well.”

“Lord Ansem isn’t here, anyway,” Even said, still re-sorting the stacks of folders. 

“Isn’t he?” Lauriam asked. 

“Unfortunately not,” Ienzo said. “He left quite early this morning, actually. I’m not surprised you weren’t awake to see him go, Lauriam.”

“He left the world entirely?”

“Yes. He’s trying to assist King Mickey and the others in their search for Sora.” 

It took Lauriam a moment to process the words. “Sora is missing?”

“Oh, I’m sorry--I didn’t think to tell you,” Ienzo said. “Yes, he’s been missing for a few weeks now. His Majesty has been searching along with his vassals, and I know Riku and Kairi joined them a couple of days ago, now that they’re fully recovered from their fight against Xehanort.”

Ienzo busied himself at the computer as he spoke, and Even was still in the corner, flipping through a notebook he had unearthed from a pile, so neither of them noticed the flash of genuine emotion that passed over Lauriam’s face before he reigned it in. He wasn’t quite sure what the emotion was--regret? Sadness, perhaps? Regardless, it was a surprise even to him. Sora had been an adversary, and a particularly frustrating one at that, but to hear that he had disappeared was...a disappointment. He had hoped to thank him again if they crossed paths in the future. 

Despite this, all Lauriam said in response was a quiet, “I see.” Perhaps he would let Elrena know about Sora’s disappearance, though he doubted she would be enthused at the prospect of having to add him to her list too. He shifted slightly on the bench, and spoke again, a bit louder this time. “As for my memories--how is this going to work, exactly?”

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, though the process itself should be simple enough,” Ienzo said. “Roxas and Namine previously entered a digital copy of Twilight Town, after Roxas left the Organization. Master Ansem modified Roxas’s memories at that time, but all of those memories were converted into data when Roxas was digitized, including the ones he’d forgotten. We made certain they were all corrected when we used that same data to prepare his vessel. You won’t be visiting the digital version of Twilight Town, but we are going to need to create a copy of your memories, so we’ve prepared entry for you into another data world.”

_"...but all signs point to this being a data world, too."_

Lauriam blinked as the words echoed through his brain in a voice he couldn’t quite place, though it sounded inexplicably familiar. He closed his eyes, trying to put a face to the voice, but it slipped away as fast as it had come.

“You won’t be staying longer than a few moments, though,” Ienzo continued, not noticing Lauriam’s reaction, “so there’s no need for worry. Tron, is everything ready to go?”

A tinny voice issued from the computer. “Ready and waiting, Ienzo.”

“Excellent.” Ienzo looked over his shoulder. “Tron is a kind of digital assistant—he’ll be helping us with the procedure. Are you ready, Lauriam?”

“What do I need to do?”

“Sit still and be quiet,” Even said, moving to stand beside Ienzo. “It’ll be done shortly.”

“I’ll count down,” Ienzo said. “Three, two, one…”

Ienzo hit a button on the keyboard, and with a flash of bright light, Lauriam was taken apart. It was the only way he could think of to describe it--it felt like both an instant and an eternity, the brilliance filling the space between every atom, and then fading until finally there was only darkness, though it was not quite threatening, just strange. Disconcerting as the sensation was, Lauriam couldn’t help but find it somehow familiar. Before he could think too hard on this, however, he heard Tron’s voice in his ear, no longer tinny but loud and clear. 

“Not to worry, User. I’m sending you right back. Here we go—“

The darkness faded as the process reversed, the light growing brighter and brighter once more, until suddenly Lauriam was back in the uncomfortable chair in the center of the lab. He let out a breath, trying to acclimate to the return of physical sensation; he _seemed_ to be still in one piece, at least, all of his limbs accounted for, though he felt a little shaky, like he’d just sprinted a long distance without rest. When he looked up, the two scientists were leaning intently over the keyboard, staring at the computer screen. 

“So?” Lauriam asked. “Did that work?”

“It did! We’re compiling the data now.” Ienzo glanced over his shoulder at Lauriam with a pleased smile, and Lauriam could just see the screen past him. A window at its center was scrolling rapidly through lines of code, a few others flashing in the corner. Even was unsmiling, but there was an air of satisfaction about him as he eyed the data. 

Lauriam sat up, shaking himself slightly to get rid of the residual strangeness. “That’s all it took?”

“To get our hands on the data, yes. Rearranging it will take longer. Potentially much longer, depending on how fragmented your memories are. Here, come take a look.” Ienzo waved Lauriam over, moving so he could see. 

Lauriam got up from the chair, frowning as he moved closer to the computer. Ienzo tapped the screen, and the text in the window slowed. Lauriam peered uncertainly at the scrolling lines. At first glance they seemed unbroken, but as he looked he noticed a few gaps here and there. The language was one he couldn’t read, but there was certainly a sort of pattern to it, some of the symbols repeating more than others. 

“These are more recent memories—probably of your time in the Organization,” Ienzo said. “As you can see, they’re mostly intact.” He pointed at a short gap between symbols. “There’s some data missing, but that’s to be expected. Your memories aren’t perfect, after all.” He reached out and drew a finger from the bottom of the window to the top. “The farther back we go, however…”

The code scrolled past, still slowly enough that Lauriam could see it, and as it did so, more gaps began to appear, peppered between symbols. As it continued to scroll, the gaps widened in areas, sometimes leaving whole lines empty. 

“If I had to guess, these are probably from your time in Corona. But if we went back even further--” Ienzo flicked his finger again, and the text blurred as it disappeared into the top of the screen. When it finally slowed, only a few lines of code were visible, scattered throughout the window in intervals; the rest was blank, huge swathes of emptiness between memories. Ienzo nodded to himself. “I thought so.”

Lauriam looked away from the screen. There was something unsettling about the visual representation of how much he’d lost. “If the data itself is missing, how will you be able to restore it?”

“It’s not missing.” Even leaned across him and tapped at the screen. “It is merely disconnected. The data itself should still be present, though separate from the rest—you could call that your base code. Your missing memories, on the other hand, should be…”

Another window bloomed beneath his fingers. It too held more indecipherable code, but it was arranged far more chaotically. Disorganized lines in varying colors seemed to almost float through the window, interspersed by random symbols. The pattern was so jarring that Lauriam’s eyes hurt as he tried to decipher it.

“Your memories weren’t erased entirely,” Ienzo said. “If they were, you wouldn’t be able to remember anything at all. That you’re able to recall some of your childhood, and that you’ve been able to piece together more in the last few weeks, means that the memories themselves are still present. They’ve just been—”

“Unchained,” Lauriam murmured. “Like Namine did to Sora.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Ienzo said. “Whatever happened to you, Lauriam, the process seems remarkably similar.”

“Still…” Even said, tapping his chin with one finger. “This case looks far more severe.”

“It is,” Ienzo agreed. “Roxas’s memories weren’t quite unchained or remade, just covered up. We only had to recover a few stray memories when we prepared his vessel. I did take a look at Sora’s initial data in the Twilight Town memory bank, however, and his was similar in some ways.” He tapped back to the initial window. “How old were you when you arrived in Corona, Lauriam?”

“Seventeen. I think.”

“A little older than Sora,” Ienzo said thoughtfully. “Namine had to unlink a fair number of his memories in order to insert herself into his past, but the broader details were still consistent with his actual childhood. Your past, on the other hand, wasn’t overwritten so much as blocked out of view, from the looks of it. Linking all of the memories back together might take some time.”

“How much time?”

“I really couldn’t say. I know that Sora’s own restoration was slowed down because of Roxas and Xion’s interference, but he also had fewer memories to restore. Depending on how fragmented your missing memories are…the process could take a while.”

From the tone of his voice, Lauriam thought that was a polite way of saying ‘months’, if not more. He held back a grimace, and only nodded. It wasn’t as if he had any other choice.

Ienzo nodded back. “In the meantime, we’ll get to work on reintegrating the unlinked data with your intact memories. Let’s see…” His fingers flew across the keyboard for a few moments, and then he paused, looking back to Lauriam. “Ah, I’m sorry. You can go if you like—this will take some time, and I’m afraid it won’t be very momentous.”

“That’s it?” Lauriam said with a frown. He’d been anticipating actually recovering a memory or two today, at the very least.

“Rushing through this will do neither us nor you any good,” Even said. “If you want us to assist you, you’ll need to accept that we know far more about this process than you do. And perhaps acquire some patience.” 

Lauriam ignored the jab. “I only want some sign that this might work. I don’t want to stay in this world for weeks on end just to find out this entire venture was pointless.”

Even looked as if he were about to start lecturing, but Ienzo nodded sympathetically. 

“I do understand your concerns, Lauriam,” he said. He drummed his fingers on the console for a moment. “Well...I suppose we could do a test. It would be beneficial to see if our method is a viable one. One of your shorter memories might do the trick….one moment.” 

He started scrolling through the data again, murmuring to himself as he did so. Lauriam sat back down in the chair to wait as Even huffed and turned away, going back to his notebook. Lauriam’s attention drifted towards the large chamber beyond as he waited, and once again he wondered just what purpose it served.

“What exactly is this place?” he asked.

Even didn’t bother to look up. “A lab.”

“I meant that,” Lauriam said, nodding at the huge room behind the glass. 

“Ah.” Even glanced out at the room, but quickly looked away again. “It was a Heartless Manufactory.” 

“A _what?_ ”

“It’s inert now, obviously.” Even still didn’t look at him, but he didn’t appear to be concentrating on his notes anymore, either. His wide, green eyes stared at a fixed point on the page before him, unmoving.

“Why on earth would you build such a thing in the first place?”

Ienzo spoke up before Even could. “Sometimes people make mistakes in the pursuit of knowledge.” He turned from the screen to look at Lauriam. “I believe I’ve found something suitable, if you’re ready.”

“I am. Do I need to do anything?”

“No, just try to be still. We won’t need to digitize you again, but...well, it’s a little complicated. Still it should only take a few moments. I’ll count down again.” 

He did so, and Lauriam tried to force himself to relax, expecting the bright light again. He closed his eyes in reflex, but his vision didn’t darken; it almost _shifted_ , and a new voice, one that didn’t belong to anyone in the room, sounded in his ear.

_“Are you excited?”_

_Lauriam sat on his bed--his new bed, in his new room in a new town, one that he had just arrived in only a few days before. He’d barely had any time to decorate the place, though a few plants were already sitting in a neat row of pots on his windowsill. The window itself was open, showing the night sky, a handful of stars twinkling far above. Standing in front of him was a small creature, cat-like and grey, looking almost like a stuffed toy. They must have been the one who spoke, because the creature tilted their head, waiting for an answer._

_“Sure,” Lauriam responded, his voice lighter than he could ever remember it sounding. He got up from the bed, reaching for a small watering can beneath the sill._

_“Sure?” The cat sounded a little disappointed in his answer. “Not everyone gets to be a keyblade wielder, you know.”_

_“Don’t they?” Lauriam tilted the can, letting water trickle down onto the leaves of the plant below. “There seemed to be quite a few of us this afternoon.”_

_“Well,” the creature admitted, “there are a lot of wielders right now.”_

_“Right now?” Lauriam asked as he moved onto the next plant._

_“There were less before. I think.”_

_“You think…?”_

_“I don’t know everything. But still--I do know that you should be honored!”_

_Lauriam shrugged, setting the can down again. A few petals and even a flower or two had already shed from the plants. He gathered them up into a small pile, his fingers tracing over the softness of the petals. “I suppose. Mostly I’m just curious.”_

_“Curious about…?”_

_“The power this weapon has.” He held out his hand and summoned his keyblade; it popped into existence in a flash of light, fitting comfortably in his hand. He had only had it for a couple of days, but summoning it was quickly becoming as natural as breathing. “If it’s such an important weapon, why were so many of us chosen to wield one? Me, and my sister, and all those others in the Unions…do you have to be chosen as a child? Could adults gain one? And where did the keyblades come from, anyway?”_

_The creature tilted their head again. Their expression was neutral, but Lauriam could tell they were taken aback. “You ask a lot of questions.”_

_Lauriam plucked a flower with petals the same shade as the creature’s little star-patterned bag from the pile, and tucked it behind the creature’s ear. “Is that a bad thing?”_

_“Hey!” The creature could not quite reach for the flower with its short arms, though it did try. After a moment it gave up with a sigh. “And no, of course not, but….”_

_Lauriam smiled. “I just like to know what I’m getting into.”_

_The creature started to say something else,_ but it’s voice was muffled, inaudible. Lauriam strained to hear, strained to even see, _but the edges of his vision began to dissolve, eating away at the walls of his room_ until at last he was in darkness, aware of the hard chair against his back, the staleness of the laboratory air, the thudding of his heart.

Lauriam opened his eyes. Ienzo and Even were both staring at him. 

“Are you all right?” Ienzo asked.

“I…” Lauriam’s hands gripped the edges of the chair. He forced himself to let go, letting out a slow breath. “That was...interesting.”

“Can you describe the experience? Was it something you had remembered before?”

“No. It was new,” Lauriam said as he leaned his head back for a moment. “I was….in a bedroom. Mine, an old one…” His heartbeat was beginning to slow. “I was holding a keyblade.”

Even snorted, turning away, but Ienzo’s eyes widened a little, and he stepped forward curiously. “Really? You’re certain?”

“Yes.” Lauriam held out his hand for a moment before closing it on empty air. Whatever was needed to summon the keyblade, it hadn’t felt the same as summoning his scythe. “And I was speaking to someone...a creature.” 

“What kind of creature?”

“It looked like a cat.” 

“A cat, was it?” Even’s tone dripped with derision as he tapped away at the screen before him, not even bothering to turn back around. “And did it talk back to you? Are you certain you weren’t recalling a mission to Wonderland rather than anything of actual importance?”

“It did talk back to me, yes,” Lauriam said calmly, though inwardly he could feel his frustration rising. As if he _wanted_ his memories to be as nonsensical as they seemed. He looked at Ienzo. “I’d like to see another one.”

“Are you sure? You look tired--”

“I’m fine. Just one more.” Lauriam looked him straight in the eye, unyielding. “Please.”

Ienzo hesitated, still concerned, but Even let out a sigh, finally turning around.

“Ienzo, if he believes he’s up to it, I don’t see any need to hold back,” he said. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Lauriam over, as if he were examining a particularly disappointing specimen. “Though exhausting yourself will do little good.” 

“I don’t recall asking for your advice.” 

Even pursed his lips, but while he grumbled under his breath, he did turn back to the screen and tap a few keys. He glanced at Ienzo, who finally relented with a nod, and then at Lauriam. “Prepare yourself, then.”

Even counted down, and Lauriam shut his eyes, clasping his hands in his lap, wishing there was some way to know ahead of time what memory he would see next, and then--

_Lauriam sat on warm stone, a gentle spray of water blowing against his cheeks and neck in the cool breeze. He was perched on the edge of a fountain, and beside him was his sister._

_Strelitzia wasn’t moving, or speaking; she wasn’t even looking at him, just watching the sunset before them. Beyond her, in the reflection of a window of one of the nearby buildings, Lauriam caught a glimpse of himself--his short hair barely brushed his shoulders, fanning out from his youth-rounded face._

“Strelitzia?” Lauriam said _\--but the memory of himself said something else entirely. “Ready to go home?” he asked. “We both have missions to fulfill in the morning._

_Strelitzia sighed. “I guess so.”_

_“Something wrong?”_

_“I never get to see you anymore,” she said, turning away, but he could tell she was pouting a little. “You always finish your missions before me, but mine take all day!”_

_“Keep trying. You’ll get faster eventually.” He stood and patted her head, laughing when she batted his hand away, and after a moment she smiled again._

_“If I finish early, will you eat dinner with me?”_

_“Sure,” Lauriam said. “But you have to cook.”_

_“What? That’s so unfair! You should cook for me as a reward!”_

_“Hmm. I’ll think about it.” He grinned at her indignant look and held out a hand to pull her up. Strelitzia shook her head, but reached for his hand and--_

“Lauriam?”

Lauriam opened his eyes. His hand was still aloft in the air, a smile fading from his lips as he came back to reality. Ienzo and Even were watching him, Ienzo with curiosity and slight concern, Even with a skeptical frown. 

Lauriam dropped his hand back to his lap. He would have sworn that he could still feel the residual heat from Strelitzia’s sun-warmed head.

“Who is Strelitzia?”

Lauriam’s head snapped up. “What?”

“You said the name out loud.” Even’s finger was tapping his chin contemplatively again as he watched Lauriam. “You said it to Larx--er, Elrena, too, if I recall.”

Lauriam nearly snapped that it was none of his business--because it _wasn’t_ , Strelitzia wasn’t any of their business at all--but he took a breath, and said, as steadily as he could, “She’s my little sister.”

The twin looks of surprise on the scientists’ faces was almost worth the discomfort of telling them. They looked at each other, and then back at Lauriam, simultaneously.

“I didn’t realize you had a sibling,” Ienzo said.

“Until recently, neither did I.” He intended to leave it at that, but realized that it wouldn’t hurt to ask them, though talking about her to someone other than Elrena made him feel oddly uncomfortable. “She...may have ended up on some other world, seeing as Elrena and I were separated. Neither of you would happen to know of a girl by that name, would you? She would be a couple years younger than me, with long orange hair, and eyes the same color as mine. She’s quiet, but very kind.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever met someone who fits that description on this world, although I was quite young when we left it,” Ienzo said, frowning thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best person to ask. Even?”

“No, that doesn’t sound familiar,” Even said shortly. He turned back to his notebook, but after a moment he looked back up again, and his tone was a little less clipped as he said, “Though...I don’t spend much time in town, nor did I do so before the world fell. The Committee members may be more familiar with the citizens than we are.” 

“Understood. I’ll check with Aerith, then.” Lauriam rubbed at his face with the heel of his palm, suddenly exhausted. “Is that it for the day?”

“Oh--certainly, if you’re tired.” Ienzo turned back to the screen. “Those memories were nearly intact, which is why I chose them. Did any parts of them seem to be missing?”

“Their ends were a little unclear, but it was a long time ago. Perhaps they’re too faded.” 

“That’s true. I’ll try to see if I can locate the rest of them. In the meantime, you may also start remembering a little more on your own--memories are often connected, after all. We’ll need to update the data periodically, since you won’t be sleeping through this.”

“Would it be quicker if I did?”

“Doubtful,” Even said as he scribbled something down in his notebook. “There are so many memories disconnected from the whole that you would likely be sleeping for months regardless.” He shut the notebook with a snap. “And the machine Sora slept in is currently in Twilight Town, and you certainly aren’t going there.”

“Roxas and the others have been living there for the last few weeks,” Ienzo clarified as he saw Lauriam frown. “Along with Lea and Isa--ah, formerly Axel and Saix. They’ll be visiting us fairly frequently, but Twilight Town is where they spend the majority of their time at the moment. ”

“I see.” So Axel and Saix had been recompleted as well, then. Lauriam was slightly surprised Saix had joined them, but as the man had apparently orchestrated a major betrayal via vessel delivery, he supposed anything was possible. Seeing Axel play-acting as one of the Guardians of Light had been even more surprising, and almost amusing. He wondered if Namine had told any of the other children about her experiences with him at Castle Oblivion.

But, Lauriam supposed, he himself didn’t have any room to judge. He got down from the chair and nearly stumbled--he was still trembling, just slightly. He clenched his fists to hide it, and said, “I’ll be going. Let me know when we can do this again.”

“Of course,” said Ienzo. “Once it’s finished compiling, we could try more than just one or two at a time, if you’re up for it.”

“That won’t be until the end of the week,” Even said. “The children will arrive the day after tomorrow, and we’ll be busy with them until they leave. As for you,” he said rather severely to Lauriam, “you’re to stay in the eastern garden during the day. They know not to enter.”

“The western garden is available too; just let us know beforehand if you want to visit it. If there’s anything you need in town, we’ll bring it to you,” Ienzo added. “You can go wherever you like after the sun sets, too.”

Even murmured something that sounded like, “Oh, _can_ he?” but said nothing further, instead going back to the pile of folders in the corner. 

Ienzo led Lauriam back out through the office and twisting corridors, but was mercifully quiet during the walk. He did glance at Lauriam from time to time, but Lauriam did not meet his gaze, too distracted by his memories to put much effort into socializing. 

After a quick farewell, Lauriam went back to the little house. The outside air refreshed him somewhat, but while the sun was not quite setting yet, he still felt drained. Despite this, as soon as he was inside he rummaged through his drawers until he found some paper and a pen, and sat at his kitchen table writing feverishly. He wanted to record as many details from his new memories as he could before they faded--the fountain, the little cat creature, his keyblade, Strelitzia. He even managed a rough sketch of the keyblade itself, though it looked different from the one he could recall holding at other times: the one he remembered most was decorated with roses and vines, while this new one had a star motif. 

By the time he finished, the light outside had begun to dim, signalling the start of the evening. Tired though he was, he managed to make a quick dinner, knowing food might help with his exhaustion. Propping his phone up against a glass, he called Elrena as he sat down to eat. 

She picked up almost immediately, the first ring barely finished. “Finally,” she said as her face appeared on the screen, “how’d it go?”

Lauriam smiled slightly. “Were you waiting for my call?”

“Duh, of course I was! So? What’d they do? Did you remember anything else?” She paused long enough in her questioning to take a good look at him, and frowned. “You okay? You look…”

“Terrible, I’m sure. I’m...tired.” He dug into his meal as he began to explain. “I went to their lab in the castle--it’s hidden near their basement, for some reason.”

“Typical,” Elrena said with a roll of her eyes. “Was it creepy? Vexen always had a bunch of weird stuff in his old one.”

“It was very simple, just a computer and some machines. They ended up...well, I’m still a little confused about the process, but they digitized my heart to gain access to my memories.” He paused, recalling the strange voice he had remembered while in the lab, and asked, “Have you ever heard of a data world before?”

The bridge of Elrena's nose scrunched slightly as she frowned too. “Uh…no? Don’t think so. Why?”

“Ienzo used the phrase, and it sounded familiar...but I’m not sure. Regardless, it was a strange procedure, but I’m still whole, so I think there’s no need to worry. They managed to convert my memories to data, but it will take a while for them all to be compiled.”

“So nothing new today?” Her voice was casual, but it carried an edge of disappointment.

“I didn’t say that,” Lauriam said, smiling again. “They did a couple of tests, so I was able to regain two new memories.”

Elrena perked up, her eyes widening. “Why didn’t you say so!? Tell me, come on!”

Lauriam laughed a little at her enthusiasm. It made him feel a bit better to see her so excited. “They weren’t particularly momentous, honestly, though the first one was strange. I was talking to what looked like a cat.”

“A cat?”

“It _looked_ like a cat, or more like a stuffed version of one. I did summon a keyblade in that one, so I know my other memory of wielding one must be true. It looked a little different than the one I remember, though.”

“The Guardians all had different ones, so I guess that makes sense...I still don’t remember using one, but whatever. Who needs a dumb keyblade when I have my Foudre?” She waved her hand as if waving the matter away, and then leaned in closer to the screen. “You said two, right? What was the other one?”

“I was with Strelitzia.”

She nodded as if she had expected it, though her anticipation was still palpable. “And?”

“We were sitting on the edge of a fountain in that town with the big clocktower, talking about missions we had to do the next day. Does that sound familiar?”

“Missions?” Elrena propped her head up on her hand, thinking. “Saix always sent us on missions for Xemnas or the old man in the Organization, but…” she trailed off, then shook her head, smoothing a hand over her hair with another frown. “I dunno. Every time I try to think about it, my head starts hurting like crazy.” 

“I’m not feeling so well myself.” A slight headache was beginning to pulse behind his eyes, but he ignored it. “That’s all we managed to put together, for now. They said it might take a while to reconstruct them all.”

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms, and even through the screen he thought he could detect a hint of concern in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Are you still sure you wanna stick around there? I really don’t like the idea of Vexen and Zexion poking around in your memories.”

“They’ll have access to them either way, now. And what could they do with them that hasn’t already been done? I don’t think Ienzo intends to destroy the memories I do have, and Even...he dislikes me, but if he did have malicious intentions, I think Ienzo would put a stop to them.”

“That’s _if_ he even notices.” 

“He’s perceptive.” Lauriam smirked, and added, “And if I start sounding unlike myself, I’m sure you’ll notice, at least.”

Elrena nodded firmly. “Yeah, and I’d come get you and make sure they put you back to normal.” She waved a hand, and a few sparks danced around the tips for a moment as she smirked back. “Or else.”

Lauriam laughed again. “I feel safer already.” 

“Good. Now finish eating and go to bed. Seriously, you look awful.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a nod. “I’ll talk to you soon. Good night, Elrena.”

“Night, Lauriam.” 

He ended the call and finished eating, and by the time he was done some of his energy had returned, though he thought he could attribute it more to the call than the food. This wasn’t entirely a good thing, however, as it meant he now was awake enough for distraction and no longer tired enough for sleep. With nothing else to focus on, no one to talk to, his mind kept straying to his memories, the little cat and the sunset and his sister. 

The imminent visit that would confine him to the gardens wormed its way into his thoughts too, and he found himself frowning resentfully as he put his dishes away.

“Enough,” he murmured to himself. “You agreed to this already. Don’t sit here and wallow.” 

The sunlight was nearly gone, but Lauriam suddenly found himself yearning for a walk, fresh air and the ability to go wherever he wanted without scolding or inconvenient meetings. He left the house and returned to the path around the castle, turning right out of the gate this time instead of left. He had a vague thought of getting a drink at that bar near the marketplace, maybe, though the idea of having to potentially socialize was not an appealing one. By the time he reached the entrance for the market, he had already talked himself out of it, and kept going down the path, towards the north garden and the area still under construction. 

It was well and truly night now; lanterns lit the path every few feet, and the windows of the few houses he could see glowed warmly from within. The castle was surprisingly dark, with only a couple of its windows twinkling distantly; the rest remained unilluminated. Lauriam wondered if it had at one point housed many more people--surely it must have, for a building that size. 

The apprentices seemed to be the only ones living in it now, though. Lauriam remembered the long winding halls beneath the castle, and was suddenly grateful for the little house. He couldn’t imagine spending his days in an empty castle, with only a handful of people for company. Castle Oblivion had been isolating enough, and he hadn’t even had the heart to feel it then. It was no wonder Even and the others were all so obsessed with their jobs--work would keep the loneliness at bay. 

And wasn’t that what he had been doing too, all week? Working to ignore the creeping sense of solitude? It seemed that even with their hearts returned, none of them could escape it, somehow. 

“This isn’t productive, either,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head. He continued on in the direction of the construction site he had seen with Elrena and Aerith earlier in the week, and cast around in his mind for something, anything useful to think about. 

The voice he had remembered in the lab came back to him then. There really was something so familiar about it, but who did it belong to? He couldn’t help but think it was important, that he had heard of data worlds before now, that the digitization process hadn’t felt as alien as he had anticipated it would. He kept walking, trying to picture the face that went along with the voice, and was so distracted by it that he didn’t notice movement ahead of him until a familiar scurrying sound made him look up. 

Something really was moving a few yards away. At first he thought it was an animal, or maybe just a flicker of one of the lanterns, but then twin golden eyes stared up at him from the base of the wall. A piece of the gloom detached itself from the rest, wriggling and restless, the Shadow’s gold eyes staring right into his own.

Lauriam immediately stepped back, throwing out a hand instinctively, but it closed on empty air. He glanced at his hand with a grimace and quickly backed up a few more steps as the Shadow continued to stare. “Of _course_ you don’t come when I need you,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

The Shadow started to advance, its movements more curious than menacing, but Lauriam continued to back up until he collided with the wall lining the path. The Shadow followed, and more golden eyes appeared in the gloom, several Shadows peeling off to follow their brethren, crawling towards him.

For a moment Lauriam was on a totally different path, on a totally different world, but just as alone and just as unarmed, Heartless advancing on him until they overwhelmed and devoured him and reached the beating prize in his chest--

Lauriam clenched his fist, not from fear but from determination--no, not this time, not _again_ \--and it closed on something softer than stone: leaves, sprouting from the ivy that covered the walls of the entire town. He sucked in a breath, and then he plunged his fingers into the foliage and focused, willing it to grow with all his heart.

A slithering, rushing noise filled his ears as the ivy shot down the wall and over the ground, snaking towards the closest Shadow. The vines tangled themselves in the limbs of the Heartless; it stumbled over its own feet as the ivy wrapped around its writhing body and tightened, covering the creature until it vanished with a puff of smoky darkness. 

Lauriam smiled fiercely, but the other Shadows rushed forward, and he was already tiring, the little energy he had regained flowing into the ivy, but he wasn’t sure it would be enough--

“Keep moving!”

Sudden quick footsteps made Lauriam turn his head despite the danger ahead of him. A figure with long dark hair zipped towards the Heartless, and with a short cry the new arrival slammed a fist right between the golden eyes of the nearest Shadow. It dissipated instantly, vanishing into inky vapor as the woman spun on her heel and, following her own momentum, kicked another into the air before destroying it with second punch. It too vanished as Lauriam watched in shock.

The last remaining Heartless leaped towards the woman, claws reaching out. Lauriam regained enough of his composure to command the ivy to move again, and a tendril shot upwards, catching the Shadow by the foot . The woman wasted no time; she sprung forward onto her hands and pushed off again, flipping forward and smashing the heel of her boot directly into the Shadow. She rolled forward as the Heartless disintegrated, and then straightened up, turning around to look at Lauriam.

“Hey!” she said, dusting her hands off before planting them on her hips. “You okay?”

Now that she was more than just a blur in the dark, Lauriam could make out her features far more clearly. The woman was a bit shorter than him, with long black hair and red eyes that softened as she smiled. Her black boots and gloves looked well-worn but sturdy. Lauriam blinked, and for a second he saw another girl in her place--much younger, but with similarly long black hair and a kind smile, also in gloves and boots, with starlight sparkling at her ears. The image faded when he blinked again. Before he could react, more footsteps, a little lighter this time, echoed from further down the path.

“Tifa!” 

The sound of Aerith’s familiar voice shook Lauriam from his confusion. She was hurrying up the path towards them, a staff in her hands. She slowed as she approached them, looking between Lauriam and Tifa in surprise.

“Oh,” she said, “you got them all?”

“Yep! With some help.” Tifa gave Aerith a thumbs-up before turning back to Lauriam. “Are you hurt?”

“Ah--no, I’m just fine.” Lauriam shook his head slightly, filing the image--memory?--of the black-haired girl away to contemplate later. “Thank you for the assistance.”

“No problem. You’re Lauriam, right? I’m Tifa.” She held out her gloved hand, smiling again. “Nice to meet you, finally! Aerith told me about you.”

“I see,” Lauriam said, shaking her hand. “Good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Aerith said. “Everyone’s excited to see how your plans for the garden turn out. Are you sure you’re not hurt? I can heal you up, if you need it.”

Lauriam shook his head. He wasn’t hurt at all, besides a slight jolt to his pride. “I’m really all right. I was just taken aback--I haven’t seen any Heartless in this world yet.”

“They’re still lurking around here, especially at night.” Tifa crossed her arms. “There were some today by the market, though, and it seems like the town’s security system is glitching again, so be careful. It’s not safe to be out on your own without a way to protect yourself. That was a pretty neat trick with the plants, though.”

“Thank you. I usually have a weapon, but it’s been giving me some...trouble, recently.” 

“Well, if you ever want any pointers on hand-to-hand, Tifa’s your girl!” Aerith said brightly. “She’s really strong!”

“Aerith, come on,” Tifa said, though she seemed pleased by the compliment. “We can take you wherever you were headed, if you want, Lauriam.”

“I was only taking a walk, so I think I’ll just go back to the house. There’s no need to trouble yourself.” 

“At least let us walk you back to the gate,” Aerith said. “There might be more Heartless around, and you look pretty tired.”

That was true enough, so Lauriam allowed the two to escort him back to the eastern garden, knowing he most likely wouldn’t be able to take on any Heartless on his own. Tifa and Aerith chatted amongst themselves rather than to him, both seeming to recognize that he wasn’t in a talkative mood. They saw him back through the gate and, with two friendly waves, bade him goodnight, heading back off down the path towards the rest of town.

Lauriam watched them go, then glanced back up at the castle. A single light was still shining from a window in its eastern wing, alone in the darkness. Lauriam thought he could guess who it belonged to, but was at last too tired even for unwilling sympathy. With a shake of the head, he turned and made his way back to the little house in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	4. P. axillaris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [james gbbo voice] Started writing it....had a breakdown...bon apetit!

Even awoke in his bed in the amber light of morning. He didn’t remember getting into bed, but he must have at some point--he was still in his clothes from the day before, his coat and cravat having been removed sometime during the evening. He brought a hand up to his face, scrubbing the heel of his palm over his eyes, and tried to banish the remnants of the unpleasant dream that had woken him. It was already fading, thankfully; vague impressions of grey hallways and what might have been his old lab in The Castle That Never Was were all that remained. 

The light filtering in through his curtains was much stronger than it should have been. A quick glance at his phone told him it was mid-morning, edging close to the afternoon. Grumbling, he pushed himself out of bed and stretched without thinking, then stopped a second later as the skin on his chest and back twinged uncomfortably. The scarred tissue felt itchy and warm--he’d forgotten to use the ointment meant for his scars the previous night, for the second night that week. He looked at the jar of ointment, still sitting on the desk, and flapped his hand at it irritably. He’d use it later; he was late enough as it was. 

Grabbing a new shirt, vest, and trousers from the closet, he dressed quickly, avoiding his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall until his shirt was fully buttoned. His coat was thrown over the back of his desk chair, and after rifling around for a minute or two, he retrieved his cravat from amongst the papers piled on his desk. They would both make it another day, but he needed to do laundry soon. One more tedium on his never-ending list. 

He exited his room into the silent hallway, stacks of notes under his arms. He had been working the last couple of days on recreating his old notes on replicas, which was rather slow going, as he had to do it from memory. He hadn’t quite managed to transcribe as much as he’d intended, but it would be enough for the day. Adjusting his grip on the stack, he made for the stairwell. The doors to the other apprentices’ rooms were closed, but he knew they had most likely gotten on with their days already. 

The castle was quiet, as usual; it was only the four of them now that Lord Ansem had taken his leave to assist the little King. There were townsfolk who had previously held positions as castle staff, but none of them had returned thus far. Even didn’t mind it; the fewer people there were in the castle, the fewer people there were to distract him from his work. 

After a few flights of stairs he finally made it to the main hall. He turned right, intending to take a nearby hallway down to the kitchens, but the sound of the front door opening made him glance back. Aeleus entered the hall, and lifted a hand in greeting.

“Aeleus,” Even said, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice. “If any of you could possibly be thoughtful enough to wake me when I’ve overslept, I would _dearly_ appreciate it.”

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. Ienzo thought it was best to let you sleep a little longer, but I came back to wake you up.” He glanced over Even’s shoulder to the hallway. “If you’re going to the kitchen, there’s food downstairs.”

“Hmph.” Even crossed the hall, a little slowly so as not to lose his grip on his papers. “Ienzo had better be down there. We have far too much to do today.”

“He is.” Aeleus held the door open long enough for Even to walk through it, and let it swing shut behind them. Without another word, he took half of the stack of notes out of Even’s arms and started walking in the direction of the lab.

“And Dilan?” Even asked. “Patrolling, I assume.”

“Meeting some guests.” At Even’s confused look, Aeleus clarified, “Ienzo received a call from Ventus earlier this morning. He and his friends are coming here to get some supplies before going to the Realm of Darkness.”

“They’re going _where?_ What on earth for?”

“To look for Sora, apparently.”

“Ah.” It was an intriguing, if risky, place to search, though Even doubted they would find much there. “I suppose anything is possible, with that boy.” 

Aeleus nodded. “He’s made his way out of that realm before, according to Ventus, but he may be lacking in his usual abilities. Ienzo thinks it’s a good place to look, at least.”

Ienzo was already seated at the computer when they reached the lab, staring down at a thick file resting in his lap, one of the many that had been brought down from his Lordship’s office or duplicated from what they could recall during their time with the Organization. A small plate sat beside the terminal, empty except for a few crumbs; another laid beside it, covered by a third plate. 

“Ienzo, you know far better than to eat in the lab,” Even said as he entered.

“Good morning to you too, Even. And I didn’t, I ate mine on the walk down.” Ienzo only glanced in his direction before looking back at the file, but he did nod briefly at the second plate. “Aeleus made sure to make enough for you.”

Even uncovered the plate to find a few slices of toast and a small pot of jam. Simple, but adequate enough. None of them had been bothering to make anything much more complicated in the kitchens during the last few weeks--not even Dilan, who Even remembered had previously spent much of his time off-duty cooking. It had been a long time since any of them had really needed to eat, though. Perhaps it was too much to think that all of their old interests would return along with their hearts. 

Carrying the plate over to his chair in the corner, Even made to reach for a file himself, but Ienzo spoke again.

“You know far better than to eat in the lab, Even.” 

Even’s head snapped back up. Ienzo’s tone was perfectly innocent, but the expectant look he was wearing held a hint of amusement. Aeleus, still near the doorway, gestured silently to the hall outside. 

“You both think you’re so clever,” Even snapped, but lab rules were lab rules. He carried his plate over to the entrance, took one step outside, and turned on his heel. “There. Happy?”

“Absolutely,” Ienzo said, still the picture of innocence. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Even saw Aeleus shake his head. Even took a piece of toast and chomped down irritably, but stayed outside as he ate. It had long since gone cold, but it was better than going hungry, and he certainly didn’t have time to go fetch anything from the kitchens. 

Ienzo finished flipping through the file in his lap and laid it aside, then woke the computer from its sleep. It took a few minutes to get it up and running fully, but once it had, the screen brightened, showing the usual starting display with a small blinking window in its corner.

“Good morning, Tron,” Ienzo said, tapping the window. “Any status updates?”

“Good morning, Ienzo,” replied a slightly tinny voice as a handful of windows popped up on the screen. “The updates to the town’s security system have been fully installed. The system is back online in full capacity. Also, one-point-zero-eight percent of the corrupted memory data has been repaired.”

“Just one percent?” Even asked, quickly finishing his breakfast. He hurried back inside the lab, setting the plate down. “Is that all?”

“Yes. It’s great progress,” Tron replied brightly. “At this rate, the data should be completely repaired in approximately one year.”

“Excuse me?” Even asked, aghast. One year, an entire _year_ of suffering through Lauriam’s presence as they assisted him with his memories?

“I don’t see any reason to complain, Even,” Ienzo said. “Considering we only started a couple of days ago, that’s about what I expected. Lauriam has more memories to link back together than Sora did, and his case is a little more dire than Sora’s, too. The process might speed up once he’s regained more memories--one recollection will lead to another, after all. We’re just going to have to take it one session at a time. Thank you for the update, Tron.

“Of course.” Tron went silent for a moment, and then asked, “Have you received any news on Sora, Users?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ienzo said apologetically. “More of his friends will be looking for him shortly, however, and I know there are a lot of other people searching for him. Once he’s found, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“Understood,” came the program’s response after a pause. “Thank you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Despite his digital nature, Tron sounded genuinely saddened by Sora’s absence. Ienzo had told him that Leonhart had mentioned Tron’s increasing depth of emotion; it was rather fascinating to witness it in person. 

But then, Even considered as he settled into his work, it was not unexpected. Xion had obtained a heart of her own, after all, and she had once been artificial down to her core. It was incredible, really; the progress she displayed in the journal entries she had been required to write while in the Organization was beyond anything he could have dreamed of. Saix--Isa--had shown him the journal along with his old records, intending to remind him of her existence. Perhaps it was because her creation was so paramount to his work, his very life’s ambition, but the memories had returned quicker for him than they had even for Isa, as if she had merely slipped his mind for a moment.

As he sorted through his own collection of notes and journals, he wished he had been able to retain a copy of hers. It remained in The World That Never Was, unfortunately, along with all of the rest of his data. It was a shame, truly; the obvious growth of her own feelings and personality over the course of her time with the Organization was simply a marvel. It was even more of a shame he had been unable to witness it himself. 

Well, at least he would be able to document it from now on. That was the point of all of this archival work he had been wrapped up in for the last week, after all. The three apprentices quickly settled into a now-familiar routine: Even selected notes, Ienzo scanned them to be digitized and archived for future reference, and Aeleus reorganized and boxed them up by subject. Aeleus would have to leave at some point to patrol, but they could at least fill a few boxes before then.

They had only managed to get through a single box’s worth of notes when the sounds of multiple pairs of footsteps started echoing from down the hall. All three looked up from their work, but Ienzo was the first to speak. 

“Oh,” he said, “I hadn’t realized you would all be coming down here.”

Even was, for once, glad for Ienzo’s new-found politeness; if he had been the one to speak, he surely would’ve sounded far more perturbed. Dilan led the way, stoic but gripping his lance just a touch too tightly. Aqua and Ventus followed, looking around at the lab and the Manufactory with slight confusion and awe, though Ventus took a moment to wave at Ienzo. Terra came last, his eyes flicking around the lab quickly, and while his face betrayed nothing, his hand twitched at his side. 

He wasn’t the only uncomfortable one; Even could practically feel Aeleus stiffen at the sight of the boy, and he couldn’t quite blame him. It made Even uneasy to see that face in the lab again, too.

“Can we help you?” he asked. 

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Aqua said, “but we thought you might be able to help us find something.” 

“Oh?” Even straightened up, frowning. “And what might that be?”

“We’re searching for my armor and previous keyblade,” she said. “Terra said he thinks he might know where they are.”

Terra stepped forward, looking around at all of them. “When I--when Xehanort--arrived in this world without any memories, a suit of armor and a keyblade were found with me. Us.”

“I remember,” Dilan said. “We brought it into the castle with you, but it disappeared after a while.”

“I don’t think it did,” Terra said with a shake of his head. “I think Xehanort moved it. I remember, a little. I think it’s...down in the basement.” He looked through the glass down to the floor of the Manufactory. “I know it was sealed, but…”

“It was, but that part should still be accessible,” Ienzo said. “Xemnas visited it fairly regularly. I don’t believe any of us have been down there in some time, however.”

“Of course not, he forbade it,” Even said. “The Chamber of Repose was for his use only.”

“The Chamber of Repose?” Ventus asked. “What’s that?”

“Xemnas built a room in the back of the area, and named it the Chamber of Repose. He used to visit it, and talk to...someone. I’m not sure who,” he clarified when both Aeleus and Even looked at him questioningly. “Braig is the one who told me that.” 

Terra frowned at the name. “I don’t have any of Xemnas’s memories, but I know that Xehanort was looking for Ven and Aqua,” he said. “He might have been trying to use her armor to make a connection.”

“Oh, I see. So he was speaking to the armor,” Ienzo said thoughtfully. “Well, we’re happy to retrieve it for you, but first we need to get past the seal.” He turned back to the computer. “Tron?”

The screen brightened. “Yes, Ienzo?”

“We’re trying to get into the sealed section of the Manufactory. I know it was most likely before you took over the MCP’s functions, but do you have any ideas about how Xemnas was able to unseal it?”

“One moment.” The program fell silent for a moment, and then spoke again. “I think I can bypass some of the permissions needed to access it.” 

“Please do.”

The screen flashed, a handful of windows popping up before closing again, and then a blank text field appeared. “Access to the sealed laboratory requires seven passwords. This one, and then six more.”

“Seven? The former Princesses of Heart, maybe?” Ienzo suggested.

“I’ll try it.” The empty field quickly filled with text, but it flashed red after a moment, and then again as other names were attempted. They each flashed red. “Access denied. Any other ideas, Users? I may be able to brute force my way through, if necessary.”

“Hold off on that for a moment, please.” Ienzo turned to the others. “Well?”

“I might know.” Terra moved a little closer, frowning at the computer. “Hello?”

“Hello, unknown User,” came Tron’s reply.

“Uh, hi,” Terra said, a little awkwardly. “Try ‘another’.”

“One moment.” The field filled with text, and then flashed, and six more fields appeared. “Success! One down.” 

“Six more?” Dilan asked with a frown.

“Correct. Let me try the princesses.” After a moment the fields flashed red. “Denied. I may be able to tell you how many characters are required for each field.”

“That would be very helpful,” Ienzo said.

There was a pause, and then Tron spoke again. “Eight characters, four characters, five characters, five characters, five characters, and six characters.”

“Hmm. Terra? Any ideas?” Ienzo asked.

Terra thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, I’m not sure...”

Even leaned forward slightly, frowning at the screen. “Aeleus? You’re the best out of the four of us with puzzles.”

Aeleus leaned over Even’s shoulder. “Eight, four, five...” he murmured, eyes narrowing. After a moment they widened slightly. “Oh--it’s us.”

“Us?”

“Yes,” he said, and reached for the keyboard. “Our names.” His fingers flew across the keys, and after a moment the screen flashed blank again before being replaced by the words SYSTEM START. 

“That did it! Access approved,” Tron said. “Did you need anything else?”

“Not at the moment. Thank you, Tron,” Ienzo said, and then turned to Terra. “We should be able to get in the usual way now, if you remember.”

“I do,” Terra said. “I’ll be right back. Aqua, Ven, you stay here.”

“Terra? I should go with you,” she said, frowning. “It’s my armor and keyblade.”

Ventus looked just as concerned. “Yeah, let us help!”

“None of you need to go down there.” Even rose from his seat. “I will retrieve them for you.”

“We’ll join you,” Ienzo said immediately.

“No, I need you to stay up here and finish preparations for the children,” Even said firmly. “It won’t take long.”

Ienzo and Aeleus exchanged a glance, which Even ignored. Terra met his eyes, but didn’t argue. Even didn’t blame him. If the boy had Xehanort’s memories from his time as an apprentice, then he certainly would remember the experiments. There was no need to expose him to that place further. 

“I’m coming with you.” Dilan had retrieved his lance from its place by the wall, holding it firmly in his gloved hands. 

“That isn’t necessary--”

“The armor’s heavy. You won’t be able to carry it on your own.” 

From the look on Dilan’s face, Even knew the man was willing to argue any point Even made. Dilan’s stubborn streak was incredibly vexing, but Even wanted to get this done as quickly as possible. He nodded, and went out the door to the stairwell, Dilan following right behind. 

When they reached the Manufactory floor, the central platform opened to reveal a long ramp, spiralling downward until it faded from view. Even glanced back up at the control room, and saw the remaining faces watching in varying levels of worry. While Ienzo and Aeleus were both frowning, even from that distance Even could see that Terra looked the most concerned, and Even knew he had made the right decision in preventing him from going into the basement.

“I can go by myself,” Even said quietly to Dilan as they reached the start of the ramp. “There’s no need for you to—”

“Oh? And how are those scars of yours?” Dilan interrupted, just as quiet. “All healed up, I take it?” He nodded at Even’s silence. “I thought not. And your shield? Can you summon it?"

“…No.” 

Dilan adjusted the grip on his lance. “There may be Heartless, or Nobodies. Stop being foolish.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Unless you’re that eager to go through the trouble of recompletion for a third time.” 

Even sighed. “Let’s just go.”

They walked in silence down the ramp. The circular stairwell twisting down into the dark was just as Even remembered it, gloomy and foreboding. As he looked down into the black, the hair on the back of his neck and arms prickled. It had been a very long time since he had walked down this path to the basement below.

As they descended, Even recalled the first time he had ventured down to the newest rooms of the lab, the excitement rushing through his veins as he contemplated all of the work he would be able to conduct, all of the knowledge that would make itself known to him at last. The excitement had quickly faded on subsequent trips, replaced by grim but feverish conviction, as the rooms below had filled one by one with the subjects of their research. 

They had wanted to help. That was all they had wanted to do, at first—study the darkness of people’s hearts, see how it manifested itself, how it grew from one small speck to a flood of shadow. The teeming Heartless beneath the castle were easy enough to observe, but they offered so little in the way of true data. It had only been with the revelation of the Heartless’s primary instinct—their single-minded determination to devour the hearts of the living—that the apprentices had begun to truly understand. They had quickly switched from observing the twitching, empty shadows to focusing on the existing hearts of humans.

They had begun with subjects nearly consumed already, too far gone to save from their fates. They had all been firm on that count. If they could just figure out how it worked, what forces propagated a heart’s fall, then they could slow the process, perhaps even prevent it from occurring altogether. They had gathered subjects into the cells of the castle, and observed them until they were consumed entirely.

It had been easier to ignore the screams than Even thought it would be. 

But the people they had studied fell too quickly to learn much, consumed by the darkness before the apprentices could even begin to study their hearts in-depth. The only way to discover what they sought was to find subjects who weren’t yet on the precipice, those who might still have a chance to recover. Perhaps then they could give those people the help they had intended—another chance, a way to beat back the darkness. 

And then Xehanort arrived, without his memories but incredibly bright, his mind so quick it was almost unsettling. He had reinvigorated their work, proposing new strategies, suggesting alternative methods, offering himself as a subject. He had been so eager to volunteer his own body and mind, and Even had seen it only as a fellow academic seeking knowledge, willing to undertake any kind of hardship if it meant he would know more. 

They spent night after night poring over data, analyzing results, crafting new hypotheses. The new laboratory was built, this very passage he was walking down and what awaited at the end of it, at Ienzo’s suggestion. Even’s stomach twisted at the thought—little Ienzo, his lab coat sleeves rolled up three times and still too long for him, perched on a stool watching everything around him with pensive blue eyes. Even knew Xehanort had pushed Ienzo to speak to Lord Ansem about the lab, and said nothing to deter them—indeed, he had supported the idea, praising Ienzo’s keenness to learn more. 

The cells filled, the muffled screams of their inhabitants continued to echo into the dark of the sleeping town, and their knowledge grew. Eventually, their Master had balked at the intensity of their research, and forbade them all from continuing. It was the first time, but not the last, that Even could remember Ansem the Wise looking afraid.

They had not listened. The work continued. Even remembered, distantly, feelings of doubt and discomfort that sometimes plagued him in the early hours of the morning, but his objections were few, and always assuaged by the calm, reasonable arguments Xehanort countered them with. They were learning so much, after all. Eventually, others would see, would _understand_ what they had done, and why.

It was the arrival of that girl that had spelled the beginning of the end. Lord Ansem had been eager to assist her, and Xehanort had too. She was yet another individual lacking in memory, after all, and they had been successful in restoring some of Xehanort’s own, or so he said. Even had intended to join them, but Xehanort had spent more and more time studying her on his own, eagerness edging on what Even could see now with over a decade’s worth of hindsight was a near-frenzied obsession.

Even’s fists clenched as the bottom of the stair came into view, the door to the cells just visible through the gloom. While Dilan didn’t falter, there was something about his gait that changed, just slightly, at the sight of it. As they made their way down the remainder of the ramp, Even remembered the way Lord Ansem had looked as he stood at the foot of it on the day he had discovered that they had continued their experiments. His Master’s amber eyes had gleamed in the dark as he stared up at them all. It was the fury in those eyes, more than anything else, that had made Even freeze, and kept him silent as Ansem and Xehanort argued. 

He had never heard Lord Ansem shout before that night. Raise his voice, certainly, when necessary, but actual shouting, his voice booming impossibly loud as it echoed through the tunnel, was just not something that Ansem the Wise did. Ienzo had run back up the staircase at the sound, Aeleus following, but Even and Dilan and Braig had stayed, bearing witness to their Master’s rage at their betrayal. None of them had said a word, even Braig, not even when Lord Ansem had stormed past them demanding they release their remaining subjects. Xehanort had remained at the bottom of the ramp, staring at the door to the cells, and Even had known that Xehanort would not follow the command, and nor would he. They had come too far to simply stop. There was still so very much left to learn. 

Nevertheless, when they awoke the next day, Subject X was gone, along with all the other subjects. Lord Ansem had burned the data he had managed to get his hands on, but Even’s own copies of the data were safe, which had seemed a blessing at the time. Xehanort had taken it all, hiding it away where their Master would not find it. Ansem would not nurture their talents, Xehanort had said, so they would need to proceed on their own, overcoming the weaknesses and faults of their teacher. 

Ansem disappeared shortly afterwards, and when Ienzo questioned where their Master had gone, Even and the others had merely nodded along with Xehanort’s claims of madness and abandonment. There would be time to explain to Ienzo later, when he was older, when he could better appreciate what they had done.

“Even.” 

Even blinked. They were standing at the door, the chains draped across it glowing a sickly purple. The air this far down was dry and cool enough, but his hands felt like ice—in fact, they had begun to frost over. He took a breath, trying his best to keep it from shaking, and glanced at Dilan. He looked almost ashen in the dim light, but when he met Even’s gaze his eyes were sharp. He nodded, and Even nodded back before stepping forward.

The door slid open. The hallway beyond seemed to stretch interminably, though Even knew it only held sixteen cells, eight on either side. He entered the corridor with only a moment’s pause, ignoring every instinct that screamed at him to turn and run as fast as he could until he reached the top of the stairwell again. Dilan followed, and they made their way down the corridor side by side. 

Even kept his gaze resolutely on the far end of the hall, but while the trip down the stairwell had seemed to take only moments, every step he took in this corridor felt as if he were weighted down, stretching seconds into hours. On either side of them were the cells, their doors chained and the keypads that unlocked them covered in a thin layer of dust. He still recalled the codes to open every single one. The barred windows at the top of each door held only darkness, and he refused to look into them. 

Beside him, Dilan shifted his lance into a defensive position, but no shadows peeled away from the gloom to leap at them. Their only company was the echoing sounds of their footsteps in the emptiness. 

At last they reached the end of the hall. Even didn’t recognize the door that now stood where he remembered a blank wall, but he did recognize the symbol emblazoned upon it. Dilan huffed at the sight of it, hands gripping his lance ever tighter. Perhaps he wanted to forget the symbol as much as Even did. Chains stretched from the door’s base to the top of the frame, but it opened for them readily enough as they stepped close to it. 

Even let out a breath of his own as he took in the room beyond—more chains were carved into the floor and walls, along with more Nobody emblems, all leading toward the focal point of the room: a large spiked throne, at the center of a carved circle. 

“Of course he built himself another throne,” Dilan muttered. He entered the room, looking around with narrowed eyes, and Even followed. 

It wasn’t a large chamber, and so it didn’t take long for them to spot what they had come for. Beyond the throne, a set of blue and silver armor lay splayed on the ground, and a keyblade stood beside it, its tip buried a few inches into the stone. Even did recognize the armor, though he had been far more interested in the amnesiac young man that had accompanied it to pay it much attention in the past. Dilan bent to examine it and nodded to himself.

“It seems intact.” He held his lance out to Even, who took it with some bemusement. Dilan went to one knee and scooped up the armor; it clanked with a deeper tone than Even would have expected, and while Dilan rose to his feet without stumbling, the effort it took to haul the full set over his shoulder belied the apparent thinness of the metal. Dilan waved his free hand at the keyblade. “Grab the blade, and let’s go.” 

“Yes, yes,” Even muttered. He gave the lance back to Dilan, and turned to the keyblade. An uneasiness spread over him as he reached for the hilt, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of his discomfort. Perhaps it was because he had faced similar blades before, and lost every battle. Nevertheless, he grasped the hilt and tugged, eager to leave this room far behind. 

The blade was only buried a few inches deep, but it held fast. Frowning, he pulled harder and immediately regretted it; the skin of his upper arm and chest stretched, sending a streak of pain radiating across his ribcage as the scarred tissue tightened. He sucked in a breath through his teeth before he could stop himself, his grip faltering. 

“Here.” Dilan held out his lance again. Even gritted his teeth, biting back the barb of frustration he longed to spit out, and took the weapon. Dilan grabbed the hilt of the keyblade, and tugged upward; the blade rocked slightly, but did not come free. His brow furrowed, and he adjusted his grip, shifting his feet to use his weight. After a few moments more of tugging, he kicked the edge of the blade, hard. It came loose with a great scraping noise that was not quite loud enough to hide Even’s squawk of indignation.

Dilan raised an eyebrow as he adjusted the armor on his shoulder. “What?”

“Did you have to kick it?” 

“We both know it will take more than a kick to break one.” Dilan held it out, hilt first, for Even to take. 

Even hesitated to meet his eyes, but when he did, he found none of the disdain or pity he thought he would see in them, only their usual intensity. Without a word, he exchanged the lance for the keyblade. The uncomfortable feeling returned as he held the weapon at his side, as if somehow it knew he was not the one meant to hold it. 

“Let’s go,” Dilan said, and Even followed him out the door. It shut behind them, those sickly violet chains locking back into place. They set off down the hall, both staring straight ahead, neither daring to look into the doors to their left or right. 

Nothing moved save for them. No monstrous figure shifted into view, no Heartless lurked in the shadows. It almost would’ve been a relief, to have something to fight, but all that remained were the dim ghosts of memory. The place was a graveyard, one of their own making, and there was nothing left for them or anyone else. 

They walked back up the circular passage in silence, the only noise the slight clinking of the armor on Dilan’s shoulder. Even kept switching the keyblade from hand to hand until Dilan frowned at him questioningly; he shrugged, and kept it in his left, trying to ignore the impulse to drop the weapon. He had the uneasy sensation of being observed, as if the blade knew his heart--and knowing how keyblades often worked, it most likely did. 

At last they reached the top of the spiralling ramp, climbing back to the bay of the Heartless Manufactory. Even looked up to the lab window, but quickly looked away; all five of its occupants were watching them come up, and he did not like the feeling of all those eyes on him. Dilan glanced upward too, and shook his head. 

The platform slid shut behind them, and some of the uneasiness subsided, but Even walked back to the staircase as quickly as he could. Dilan matched his pace despite the heaviness of his burden. 

When they entered the lab again, Aqua immediately stepped forward, reaching for her armor. “You found it!”

“It was just where you thought,” Dilan said with a nod to Terra. “Xehanort locked it away.”

He lowered the armor down from his shoulder and held it out to Aqua. She placed her left hand on the metal plating of the helmet, and touched her own shoulder-guard with her right. The armor glowed brightly for a moment, then dissolved, setting the shoulder-guard briefly aglow before it too faded to normalcy. Aqua smiled softly, closing her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again and reached out to take her keyblade.

Even quickly handed it over, and resisted the urge to shake his hand once he let go of the hilt. The feeling of wrongness lingered, and he clasped his hands tightly behind his back to quell it.

Aqua held her keyblade aloft for a moment, eyeing it closely, and then dismissed it in a soft flash of light. “Thank you,” she said with another smile, “both of you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Even said. 

Dilan nodded before going back to the doorway, leaning his lance against the wall. His face was stoic again, but he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, and only shrugged at the glance Aeleus gave him. 

“Well, we’ll be leaving,” Aqua said. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Not at all,” Ienzo said. “As I was saying, the others will be arriving in a few hours, if the three of you would like to say hello.”

“We’ll stick around until then, at least,” Terra said. “It’d be nice to see them before we head out.” He turned to Ventus and Aqua. “We should get going for now, though. We still need to pick up some supplies.”

“Can I stay here a little longer?” Ventus asked. 

“Ven, I’m sure they’re busy,” Aqua said. “We should leave them alone.”

“But I wanted to talk to Ienzo a little more. It’s okay, right?” Ventus said, turning to Ienzo, who looked surprised but rather pleased.

“I don’t mind at all,” he said. “We’re just going over the last few preparations for Xion and the others.”

“Ienzo, we _do_ have work to do,” Even said. 

“I’m aware, but it’s not particularly difficult work. I don’t think there’s any harm in Ven being here.” Ienzo smiled at Aqua and Terra. “Really, it’s fine.”

“Well…” Aqua looked at Terra, who glanced at the apprentices, and Even once again found himself wondering exactly how much Terra had told his friends about Xehanort’s time in this lab.

Terra said nothing, however, except, “If you’re sure. Ven, we’ll meet you outside when the others get here, okay?”

“Sure thing!” Ventus smiled brightly and plopped down on a vacant chair. 

“I’ll escort you,” Dilan said, retrieving his lance.

“I remember the way out,” Terra said. “From before.”

Dilan paused, taken aback, but nodded. “I’ll walk you out anyway. I need to get back on patrol.” 

With that, the three left the lab, and some of the tension in Even’s body lessened somewhat. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, of course, but there really was something discomforting about his presence in this place. 

“Now,” Even said pointedly, “can we get back to work, please?”

Ienzo sighed. “Yes, Even, we can.” 

Despite Even’s hesitance, Ventus was not too terrible a distraction. Beyond a few curious questions about what they were doing and why, he seemed content to simply sit and chat with Ienzo while they worked. This was even rather beneficial, as it meant Ienzo had no opportunity to ask any probing questions about the trip down to the basement. 

After a short while, they fell back into a decent rhythm. Ventus began helping to stack completed boxes while he told Ienzo all about he and his friends’ plans to explore the Realm of Darkness. They passed an hour or two in this way, and Even was just beginning to feel somewhat relaxed again when Ienzo’s gummiphone rang, lighting up in his pocket. 

With a curious frown, Ienzo retrieved the phone. “Oh,” he said, “it’s Lea.” 

Ventus brightened. “Do you think they’re here already?”

“Let’s see.” 

He tapped the screen, and instantly it filled with a shock of bright red hair. Lea seemed to be looking at something to his left, but he quickly realized Ienzo had picked up, and looked back at the screen.

“Hey,” Lea said. “It’s me.”

“He means it’s us,” said a second voice, and Isa came into view beside Lea. It was still a slight shock to look into his face and see green eyes instead of gold. “Hello.”

“Lea! Isa!” Ventus leaned forward at the sound of their voices, smiling brightly. “Hey, guys!” 

“Ven?” Lea frowned. “What’re you doing in Radiant Garden?”

“Picking up supplies before our trip. You guys are coming today, right? We can say hi before we leave!” 

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.” Lea looked back to Ienzo, frowning deeper. “That’s what we wanna talk about. Marluxia knows we’re coming, right? You told him?”

“He does,” Even cut in. “He knows to stay in the eastern garden until you all depart again.” 

“Who’s Marluxia?” Ven asked, looking from the gummiphone to Ienzo. 

“No one you wanna know,” Lea said. “He was in the Organization. And Namine’s scared of him—which you guys _knew_ when you decided to invite him over,” he added with a sharp look Ienzo and Even. 

“He asked for our help, Lea,” Ienzo said calmly. “And we spoke with Namine before bringing him here.”

“Yeah, and she said it was fine, because she’s _nice_.” Lea shook his head, sighing. “You had to have known she’d agree. Come on.” 

“Lea,” Isa said, “what’s done is done. He’s there whether we want him to be or not.”

“Definitely _not_.”

“It’s a very good thing you’ll be spending most of your time in Twilight Town, then,” Ienzo said. His voice was still polite, but it held an edge that Even recognized, one that indicated he was growing tired of Lea’s complaints. Even wondered if perhaps Lea had sent him messages about this topic before. At least _someone_ else thought this whole plan was a bad idea....even if that someone was Lea.

“Ventus.” 

They all turned to look at Aeleus, who was still standing by the stacks of boxes.

“Yeah?” Ventus replied.

“Could you help me move these?” Aeleus gestured at the growing pile near the door. “It’s getting crowded.

“Oh--sure, I can help,” Ventus said, though he seemed a little put out. He hopped up from his seat and grabbed a box; Aeleus, carrying three, led him out of the room. Ienzo watched them go, and waited until they were out of earshot before continuing.

“We’ve only just begun our work on his memories, Lea. We can’t stop when we’ve barely begun to uncover the mysteries behind them. And we made a promise to help.”

“I know, and I’m not saying you gotta break your promise, but--why would you make one to _Marluxia_ , of all people?”

“That isn’t his name anymore,” Ienzo said quietly.

“Fine, okay. Lauriam. Anyway, look, I’m not _mad_ , it’s just--she was just starting to seem more comfortable, you know? Now she’s all wound up. She says she’s okay, but you can tell she’s worried.”

“Again, he’s already agreed to stay away,” Ienzo said. “Now that we’re assisting him with his memories, there’s no reason for him to approach her.”

“And rest assured that if he does, we will take care of it,” Even said grimly.

Isa leaned back in. “Xion and Roxas have already sworn not to leave her alone, and we’ll stay close by, as well.” He smiled slightly. “She practically has her own retinue. It’s not her safety that we’re really concerned with, just her discomfort.”

“It’s just him, at least, right?” Lea asked. “Larxene left?”

Ienzo nodded. “Elrena did take her leave, yes. She should be searching for Demyx and the others as we speak.”

“Braig and Luxord?” Isa asked.

“Yes,” Ienzo answered. “And I think some others that she and Lauriam know. I of course want to locate Braig as quickly as possible, but I am very curious to know more about Xemnas’s plans for our former colleagues, especially considering none of them were particularly loyal to the Organization. Well, Luxord perhaps might be an exception there.”

“I wouldn’t consider him an exception,” Even said. “He didn’t seem pleased to be working with Xemnas again either.” 

His time with Luxord in the Carribean hadn’t been particularly unpleasant, as he could think of much worse company, but Luxord’s attitude indicated that he had not felt the same about Vexen. Even supposed that was fair enough—he had leaned particularly hard into the amorality of his facade, and while Luxord never questioned orders, he had always seemed to hold a personal distaste for the more unpleasant aspects of their former work. 

Even hadn’t enjoyed lying to him, and if they were able to meet again, he hoped he would have the chance to explain himself. “If he or Demyx do happen to have recovered more of their memory,” Even continued, “or if we are able to disentangle Lauriam’s, then we may be able to determine just what Xemnas was so interested in.”

“Xemnas is gone,” Lea said flatly. “It doesn’t matter what he or the old man wanted, it didn’t get them anything in the end.”

“But knowing what he was after might help us in other areas,” Isa said quietly. He was looking intently at Lea, whose eyes widened slightly before he nodded, looking surprisingly chastened. Isa looked back to the apprentices and said, “We’ll assist as much as we can. But again, we are concerned for Namine.”

“As are we,” Ienzo said. “But Lauriam has already agreed to stay away from her, so for the time being, I don’t think there is much reason to worry. If that changes, we will deal with it accordingly.” His tone indicated that he was done with the conversation. 

“So long as he abides by that agreement,” Isa said. He looked at Lea, who nodded after a long moment.

“Yeah, if he sticks to the gardens, then fine.” 

Ienzo nodded. “You’re just about to leave, right? The trip here should be fairly short, so we’ll see you soon.” 

“See ya,” Lea said, and the screen went black. 

Ienzo put his phone away, and turned back to Even. “It won’t take too long for them to arrive, but I think we can at least finish up this batch,” he said. “Shall we?”

Even wasn’t averse to getting at least a little more done, so they set back to work, but not for long. After a few minutes, the gentle beeping of a gummiphone notification broke the silence. Both reached for their pockets, but it was Ienzo’s that had a message. He looked at it, frowned, and immediately began composing a response. 

“Who is it?” Even asked.

“Lauriam,” he said, still typing. “Hold on.” He continued typing for a few moments more, then set the phone back down. “The handle of his trowel broke, apparently. He requested that one of us bring a replacement, since he can’t go into town today.”

“No, he certainly can’t. They’ll be here quite soon.” Even turned back to his files. “Well, have fun, I suppose.”

“I was thinking perhaps you should go, actually, Even.” 

“Me?” Even’s head snapped back up. “And why on earth should I have to be the one to go?”

“When was the last time you stepped outside of the castle?” 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“It was when you went to escort Lauriam here, wasn’t it?” Ienzo nodded at his silence. “That was over two days ago.”

“Ienzo, your habit of volunteering me for things I specifically do _not_ want to do is incredibly frustrating.” 

Ienzo sighed. “Even, I’m being quite serious. Before that, you hadn’t left the castle for nearly a week.” 

Ienzo was looking at him closely, and Even looked away. That was true, but what did it _matter_?

“And just how often do _you_ go out?” he asked.

“I take a walk nearly every evening, actually. It’s very refreshing. And you may find it easier to sleep if you got regular exercise. I know you were up quite late last night.”

“My sleeping habits are none of your concern.” 

“Even…”

Even glared at him. Ienzo did not flinch, far too used to such looks; he merely met his gaze. There was concern in his eyes, and something close to disappointment, which Even did not like at all. Even growled and slapped the folder on his lap shut.

“Fine. _Fine_ ,” he said, “I’ll go. But you tell him the next time one of his tools breaks he can wait until he’s able to replace it himself. This is not my job.”

“I will let him know.” 

Even quickly left the lab, passed Aeleus and Ventus stacking boxes in Ansem’s office with no more than a short nod, and stalked down the winding halls back up to the surface. Zexion had always had the irritating habit of delegating work he didn’t want to do to others—usually Vexen. It seemed Ienzo had retained this trait, for all that he had changed since his recompletion. 

The familiar scent of flowers reached his nose as he finally stepped outside, and he paused for a moment, eyes closed. Now he had little choice about going into town, though he was not looking forward to the curious looks the townspeople would give him. Ienzo was right--he had barely left the castle since his recompletion, barring their trip to other worlds. Dilan and Aeleus patrolled as they had before, and Ienzo had his walks, but Even had been content to stay inside. It was easy enough to keep his own memories at bay in his room, or the lab--work distracted the mind, after all--but leisurely walks or trips into town did not always refresh him as it did the others. 

It wasn’t that he disliked Radiant Garden at all. It was that every time he ventured out into town, he remembered how it had looked in its final days, the sickly yellow sky and silent streets with monsters lurking in every shadow. 

His hands had frosted up again. He opened his eyes and looked at the icy flakes enveloping his fingers and palm, and waited until the warm air had melted them away before swallowing hard and setting off once more. 

He paused for a moment at the gate, considering taking the long way around to the market, but it would take nearly double the time to get there on foot. With a grimace, he took the path that passed by the eastern garden, walking as quickly as he could—he had no interest in seeing Lauriam any more often than necessary. 

The man was nowhere near the gate, however, and Even reached the marketplace quickly enough. It was busy, as it always was in the early afternoons, and as he walked he received more than a few glances from others going about their business. He ignored them, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He assumed explanations had been made at some point, because none of them had been run out of town yet--perhaps while he had slept, still recovering from his injuries. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask, though he knew Aeleus would tell him what had been said. He told himself it was irrelevant, and ignored the guilt that gnawed at the pit of his stomach whenever the subject crossed his mind. 

The errand, at least, was quickly taken care of; the gardening shop was one of the busiest in the area, and Even quickly paid for a new trowel without meeting the surprised gaze of the woman at the counter. He recognized her, he thought. He had never been the most social of people even before he lost his heart, but he had known many of the people in town for much of his life, at least in passing. Was her surprise because he hadn’t yet come into town, or because he had dared to show his face in it? How much did they know about what he had done? Was the reason that no one else had returned to the castle because they were all too afraid to do so?

He was starting to feel ill. He snatched up the purchase with a short nod and quickly left the shop; so quickly, in fact, that he ran directly into someone just outside the door, colliding with their shoulder. He recoiled, more intensely than the mistake warranted.

“Oh!” The girl took a step back too, and Even realized it was one of the Committee members—Aerith, he thought her name was. “Hey, there.”

“E-excuse me,” he said, a little roughly, “my apologies.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! I was off in my own world,” Aerith said with a smile. “I don’t see you out and about very often! Doing some shopping?

“Er—yes,” he said, “for Lauriam…”

“Lauriam? That’s nice of you,” she said. “Did he need something for the garden?”

“Yes…” Even said as she leaned over to peek into his bag. “He, er, was too occupied to get a replacement himself.”

“Some of the tools we had in the shed are definitely old,” she said. “I’ll take a look at them this week and see if any others need to be replaced.”

“That would be helpful,” he said, as politely as he could, hoping to end the conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—“

“Oh, wait!” Aerith said. “Before I forget, do you need more of that ointment? You should be getting pretty low by now. I just finished making some more yesterday, if you have enough time to make a quick stop.”

Even froze. Aeleus had been the one to give him the ointment, but of course he had to have gotten it from _some_ where. The truth was that he had more than enough to last him for a while thanks to his uneven application habits, but he couldn’t admit this to her. After a moment, he nodded stiffly, and followed as she led the way down the street. 

She guided him all the way out of the marketplace and to the wizard’s house. The only other person in the house was Highwind, seated at a computer terminal in the corner. He looked up as they entered, and gave Even a searching look, but only nodded after a moment and went back to his work. Even was grateful none of the other committee members were present. 

Aerith went over to a cabinet and started rummaging. Even waited, standing awkwardly by the door as she searched. Eventually she gave a quiet, “Aha!” And held up a jar identical to the one Even had sitting on his desk. 

“Merlin helped me improve on the recipe! I think this batch should stay protective and comfortable even in the sun or high temperatures, at least for a little while. Should be really helpful now that summer’s in full swing,” she told him, holding out the jar. He nodded without a word, not having the heart to tell her that he rarely went out anyway, and took it, slipping it into his coat pocket. 

“Oh, and speaking of summer,” she said before he could thank her, “I’m sure you know Midsummer is next week! Obviously we can’t do all of the old traditions with the town still under construction, but there’s going to be a party at the bar all day long. Anyone’s welcome to come.”

“I will keep it in mind,” Even lied. 

“Great! Let the others at the castle know. Oh, and Lauriam too, since you’re going to see him.”

“...Of course,” he said, silently thinking that spending a Midsummer celebration anywhere in Lauriam’s vicinity was the last thing he wanted to do. “Thank you for, er...your assistance. I’ll be going.” 

“No problem,” she said as she opened the door for him. “Let me know when you’re running low again, I’ll get another batch ready.”

Even could only nod, stiffer than ever, before turning and leaving as quickly as he could. He kept up his quick pace, avoiding the gazes of everyone he passed, until he at last returned to the path circling the castle. 

It was mercifully empty, so no one was around to see him struggling to breathe. The scars sometimes made it difficult to be as active as he wanted to be, and his anxiousness was not helping. He paused to catch his breath, and as he did so, a flash of light from far above made him look up. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the sun, and realized it was a gummiship—Isa and Lea’s, specifically, which they had commissioned from the King’s engineers around the same time the apprentices had been building their own. 

As it approached the town, glinting in the sun, Even couldn’t quite place the emotion that made him grit his teeth at the sight. Irritation? Disappointment, perhaps. He had wanted to be present when they landed, and now he would be searching the gardens for Lauriam instead.

With a huff, he set off again down the path. As he reached the gate, he was surprised to see that the garden looked fuller than it had even two days ago. Half-grown bushes lined the path leading further into the area, and a number of saplings and even, in a few places, fully grown trees were visible scattered throughout the space. Lauriam had been busy, apparently. 

Something about this made Even’s mood drop even lower. He went through the gate and down the terrace, forcing himself to walk at a normal pace--it just wouldn’t do to seem tired or out of breath in front of Lauriam. Knowing him, he would make some jab about it, and Even did not trust himself to keep his own temper in check for much longer.

About halfway down the path, just as he was starting to get truly irritated at not having found the other man yet, Even spotted him. Lauriam knelt in the grass off to the side a few yards away, near a cleared rectangle of soil with a few barely-blooming petunias scattered at its edges. He’d been digging a small hole, but finished up and wiped his gloves on his apron--one that matched the guard uniforms, Even realized instantly, blue with a white and red heart-shaped emblem. 

Not noticing Even’s approach, Lauriam took a breath, and then plunged his hands into the dirt until they were almost completely submerged in the soil. He closed his eyes, and appeared to be concentrating very hard on something. 

Even almost called out to him, eager to take his leave, but just as he opened his mouth, a small, bright green shoot emerged from the soil between Lauriam’s wrists. It shot up into the air, rapidly changing in color as it lengthened, thickening from light green new wood to a deep brown bark. Branches sprouted from the wood, leaves emerging with a great rustling sound, and the dirt beneath cracked and shifted as the roots expanded beneath the surface. In less than a minute, a brand new magnolia tree stood in the space between Lauriam’s hands, almost fully grown. 

Lauriam sagged for a moment, resting his head against the tree, then pulled his hands from the earth and sat back, looking up at his work. He breathed hard enough that Even could see the rise and fall of his chest, but a satisfied smile spread across his face. 

Even stood a few yards away, making no sound. The tree was well-placed, he could tell even from that distance; it would provide shade for the path without covering too much of the neighboring bed, and when spring came and went the blooms on the branches would drop prettily down to the ground. Lauriam had chosen its new home perfectly. 

It made him grit his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. Watching this man, who had wrought so much havoc on all of their lives little more than a year ago, sitting in the garden looking for all the world like he belonged--he practically _seethed_ at the sight of it. How dare Lauriam take to this world so well after only a few days? How dare he look so at ease, as if he had spent his whole life in Radiant Garden, when Even himself had lived there from the day he was born, growing up and learning and working for decades, until the day he had played a part in its destruction? How dare Lauriam look so--so _at home,_ when Even had never felt more out of place?

As he struggled to keep his emotions in check, Lauriam noticed him at last, and got to his feet. He was too far to notice the expression on Even’s face immediately.

“Hello,” he said as he walked over. “Did you manage to find a replacement for--?” He broke off as he drew closer, and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Even knew that he must have looked utterly livid; heat was building in his cheeks, his breath coming quicker than he wanted it to. He ignored the question and held out the bag without a word.

Lauriam frowned, but reached for the bag. His movements were cautious as he took it, and he watched Even closely. “Thank you,” he said. 

“I don’t want your thanks,” Even snapped. “The next time you need something, wait until you can retrieve the damn thing yourself.” 

Lauriam stared at him, eyes narrowing. “I have no clue why you’re so upset with me, seeing as I did exactly as you asked me to do.”

“I’m not your errand boy! Surely you can occupy yourself with some other task instead of forcing me to do your bidding!”

“I wouldn’t need you to do anything for me if your rules weren’t so completely absurd.” Lauriam’s voice was raised, just slightly, but for him, he may as well have shouted. “I wasn’t allowed to leave the garden today, despite the others having only _just_ arrived. Had you allowed me to leave instead of treating me like some kind of prisoner, I could have easily gotten what I needed myself.”

A dozen things he could say raced through Even’s mind, so quickly that he couldn’t even begin to form one sentence before another overtook it: Lauriam was lucky he _wasn't_ a prisoner, treacherous as he was; he didn’t even deserve to _be_ here, not like the children did; he should consider himself fortunate Even was inclined to help him at all after everything he had done! Even stood there, glaring, hands balled into fists—and then he abruptly turned on his heel and stomped away, eager to put as much space between himself and Lauriam as he possibly could. 

As he strode away down the path, he heard a noise that nearly made him turn right back around: Lauriam was laughing, incredulously, mockingly. It took every ounce of self control within Even to keep walking, away from that terrible laugh and its infuriating source. 

The gate clanged as he shoved it open, and clanged again as he slammed it shut, so hard the whole structure shuddered. His hands were freezing again, but the rest of him felt hot with rage and indignation. He clenched his fists and drew in a breath; it hissed through his clenched teeth.

“Even?”

His eyes flew open. A group of people were approaching from the direction of the castle, chatting amongst themselves. A few sped up as he turned to look: Xion, followed by Roxas and Namine, were heading right for him. Ienzo, along with Aeleus, Ventus, Lea, and Isa, followed them, still talking amongst themselves. 

“Ienzo said you were in town!” Xion said, but her smile faded as she got a proper look at him, replaced quickly by worry. 

Ienzo broke away from the others, coming up to greet him. “There you are. We were coming to find you and the others,” he said. “Did you--” 

He broke off at the look on Even’s face. The others, too, were starting to notice: Roxas and Namine had both stopped a few feet away, with Ventus right behind them, and all three had fallen silent. Isa and Lea, too, said not a word as they looked at him, both wearing the beginnings of a frown. Aeleus and Ienzo exchanged an alarmed glance that neither bothered to hide. 

Distantly, Even knew how he must have looked—hands clenched and shaking, his face undoubtedly red, trying and failing to hold back a grimace. This was not how he had wanted to greet the children. This was not the impression he wanted to give. It was not how he wanted to _feel_. But the bitter anger remained, and it was all he could do to jerk his head in a nod as they all continued to look at him.

Ienzo had that concerned look in his eyes again. “Are you alright?”

“I have work to do,” Even said, painfully aware of the tightness in his voice. “I will see you all tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me—” 

Without waiting for a response, he edged around the group and set off for the castle, not looking any of them in the face. 

It wasn’t until he reached the castle door that the burning knot of in his chest began to diminish, calcifying into the heaviness of humiliation. His steps slowed, but he did not stop or turn back. He continued inside and up the stairs, all the way back up to the east wing, until at last, he reached his room. 

He went inside and shut the door behind him. His chest ached--he was breathing heavily again. He stood at the door for a moment, hand still wrapped tightly around the knob, but he let go after a moment--tendrils of ice had started to creep across the metal.

He let go, and went to his desk. As he sat down, something clinked in his coat: the new jar of ointment for his scars. He fished it out of his pocket, and then placed it beside its half-full twin. He stared at them both for a moment, then with one violent movement he shoved them both aside in favor of a blank notebook, picked up a pen, and got back to work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


End file.
